The Shipping Forecast
by CrazyAbout
Summary: Harry had been extradited to the US and Ruth has gone missing.
1. Chapter 1

The physical pain he was coping with, he could deal with it. But it was the mental torture that was resulting in dream filled nights causing him to wake up bathed in sweat, that after weeks of interrogation were beginning to take their toll. For what already felt like a lifetime in one of the CIA's most secure units, they had tried and failed to get him to confess. Guilty of plenty he was and ready to admit it to anyone who asked it of him, but they had no interest in what he may or may not have done, other than in getting him to confess to the crime that he alone could tell them that he was innocent, the murder of his friend James Coaver. Lying there in his featureless hell with a small chink of light heralding the start of yet another dawn, he stole himself against the prospect of another day and of their relentless questioning.

With the morning came the memories that never left him of the last time that he had seen her, burrowing their way into his consciousness to torment him. Worse still, was his belief that if it continued like this that he would eventually lose his mind and that even the sound of her voice and the gentle touch of her hand, would be lost to him forever. They were all that he had left to sustain him. As if it hadn't been bad enough that he'd had to say goodbye to her for what he knew to be the last time, they'd had an audience. William Towers, who he had almost come to consider as a friend, had watched on unmoved as he'd made one last desperate attempt to tell her to make a life for herself, before he'd stolen the luxury of a kiss and then walked away.

* * *

 _Four weeks earlier._

'He got what was coming to him and we simply don't have the resources, accept it, ' Erin told her outraged colleagues, when two days after Harry had been dragged away to God knows where, Callum suggested that as they all knew Harry to be innocent, that they should find a way to convince the Americans and to bring him home. The once 'indifferent towards Harry' Callum, had been going out with Catherine with Harry's blessing for some time and felt entirely differently, so whatever Erin's motives were, which he imagined went far deeper than her talk of lack of resources, he was determined not to let this go.

'For Christ sake Erin,' he yelled at her, 'how would you feel if this was you that we were discussing and someone told me that I had to go to your home and pass this message on to Rosie?' brought no response, although Callum couldn't quite believe that with the mention of Erin's daughter, he hadn't made some sort of impression, despite her not answering.

Beth, Dimitri and Tariq had sat watching but had so far said nothing, although all of them were silently begging Callum to continue. Erin was new, parachuted in by the DG from heaven knows where and here she was, daring to write Harry off as though he didn't matter. He was worth more than that, in fact compared to Erin he was almost a god in their eyes and totally indispensable and if it meant them conspiring behind Erin's back and working in their spare time away from the grid to prove him innocent, then they meant to do it.

'What about Ruth, have you written her off as well or even given a thought as to what this must be doing to her, you do realise that it was Harry's birthday yesterday?' Beth finally chipped in, realising too late that she had inadvertently divulged some information to which Erin might not be privy. To hell with it she thought, Ruth was her friend who had offered her a roof over her head which despite Ruth's need for privacy, she was still enjoying. Remembering Ruth's devastated and defeated expression when she'd come back to the flat the previous evening and then finding her gone when she'd woken up that morning, she owed her this, so ploughed on. 'She's upped and gone Erin, to who knows know where, how can you be so bloody heartless?' Had no effect other than for Beth to watch their new Section Head's eyes grow even more steely and determined.

'Enough,' Erin ordered them, before she pushed back her seat and walked out of the meeting room and back into what only she deemed to be her office.

Dimitri and Beth were fuming and Tariq had sat through the entire exchange with his head in his hands, close to tears. He'd been the one that had stood at Ruth's side when Harry had walked to what they had believed to be his certain death on the rooftop with Lucas, he'd seen her reaction then and he barely dared to imagine how she must be feeling now.

'What the hell do we do?' asked Beth of Callum, who knew Erin far better than the rest of them did.

'To be honest, I really don't know,' he told them, 'but we make a start by digging out as much footage as we can in the hope that we can prove Harry innocent and then we go to the DG or if that fails to the Home Secretary and ask for his help, with or without Erin,' was received with determination but with little hope that they would be able to work against the system.

'Come on Tariq, we'll sort this out,' Beth told him, putting her arm around his shoulders. 'You start looking and we'll do our best to keep Erin off your back.'

* * *

They weren't the only ones that were unhappy, at the Home Office WilliamTowers was close to combusting. He had a crucially important meeting with the PM to explain why the Head of Counter Terrorism had been extradited, and with less than an hour to go, he'd been told that his security adviser had apparently gone missing. Shouting at her PA Margot, had resulted in her bursting into tears and racing towards the cloakrooms, with the real possibility of him getting reported for his less than savoury language that had ricocheted like a bullet onto the grapevine of misinformation that was Whitehall. But Christ all bloody mighty he needed some help here, to explain his way out of yet another sticky situation and Ruth Evershed wherever she was, was his only road to salvation.

'Back off,' Dolby had told him, when he had attempted to try and intervene on Harry's behalf, never realising until it was too late, that the politics that went on in the higher echelons of the Security Services could be even more devious that those between scheming politicians at Westminster, and that one Harry's own would stretch to such lengths to get rid of him. Moreover he was being set up as the bad guy, all because of a small indiscretion with an Under-Secretary years ago when he'd worked at the Treasury.

* * *

Margot without Ruth couldn't function. They'd become a team in what was well known to be a male dominated environment and she'd loved it. Sir Harry was different, he was always courteous to her despite his sometimes gruff exterior, whereas Towers who she didn't like, spent most of his day muttering at his female staff and eating his way to a long overdue coronary. Abandoning the idea of hiding herself in the ladies for the rest of the morning and finding herself virtually redundant without her new boss, she headed out along the embankment in search of somewhere to sit, to clear her head and try and decide the best course of action to help Ruth. She'd been trying to reach her on her mobile for the best part of two hours, but having got no response she called Thames House and Beth who she knew to be Ruth's friend, begging her to come out and meet her.

Not knowing Margot other than by reputation and what Ruth had told her, Beth stalled, telling Margot that she was still trying to find out what had happened to Ruth and would ring her later. She was however curious and if Margot did have some useful information, then perhaps she ought to talk to her.

'Maybe it would be less obvious if we met after work,' she suggested to her, 'far less eyes after dark if you understand my meaning,' seemed to calm Ruth's very agitated PA.

It had been in Tower's power to delay Harry's extradition, which would have given them time to prove him innocent, but he'd seemingly done nothing and before Beth met anyone else from the Home Office, she needed to clear it with Callum.

* * *

With the pretence of checking the latest intel, Tariq had taken himself to what had once been Ruth's desk, which meant that Erin was in his direct line of sight and he would be forewarned if she made a move in his direction. The initial task that Callum had set him was to search back through the files and find out everything there was to know about their new boss and more precisely what she'd been doing, during the weeks that had led up to the current situation. Callum's instructions were quite clear. He had to do everything in a way that would be untraceable, which at least made that part of his job very simple.

Callum was well aware that they would be under scrutiny so had arranged that the headquarters for their first clandestine evening meeting would be at the home of the recently retired Malcolm, who Tariq had replaced. Callum knew that he had worked with Harry for years, in fact according to Catherine they had been close friends and he had a reputation second only to Ruth's, for the ability to bend the technological system. Tariq's remit would a clear one, to find out what the hell was going on and then jointly with Malcolm, work out who was behind it and why.

'Any luck?' asked Dimitri, delivering him a cup of coffee and planting himself in the seat next to Tariq.

'Zilch,' wasn't very helpful and not what Callum would want to hear, so he left Tariq to his ministrations and headed in the direction of his Section Head's desk where he and Beth were deep in conversation, about an asset that Beth was supposedly going to meet that evening, called Margot.

'Go ahead if you think it will help, but be careful what you tell her,' Callum was saying, obviously dismissing it as probably of little use and wanting get back to the matter in hand. 'What I don't understand,' he continued, 'is why in the name of God would anyone want to get rid of Harry and now apparently Ruth as well, we have to find the connection.'

'Please tell me that you're not suggesting that they've succeeded in extraditing Ruth as well?' asked Beth, as she tried to blank out the picture of Ruth in a cell somewhere and being terrorised. God almighty, she wouldn't survive a day never mind a week or longer, she was gentle and kind not bloody tough and blood splattered as she'd been on endless occasions. Something that she'd persuaded Tariq to delete from her personal file. Worse still, were Ruth and Harry together with some bastard trying to get Harry to confess to something that he hadn't done, it was curtains. He'd confess to anything to protect Ruth.

'Sorry guys, I need some air,' she told them, heading up to the roof terrace to give herself time to calm down.

A few weeks ago, during the course of what had turned out to be a very long evening, Beth had come home late and found Ruth half way through a bottle of wine and whispering sweet nothings down the phone before saying goodnight rather abruptly when she'd appeared. Pouring herself a large glass and then opening another bottle to compensate for the fact that she was drinking Ruth's wine, she'd finally managed to get her to confess that she'd been talking to Harry. Ruth had looked guilty, loved up in her opinion, but despite her efforts she'd failed to get her Ruth to elaborate. Could she and Harry be having some sort of sordid affair? Beth rather doubted it, Ruth certainly didn't seem the type, although there had been an evening earlier in the week, when she'd been sure that Ruth had stayed out all night.

There was clearly something going on and being curious and at a loss for something to do when the grid's workload had miraculously ground to a halt soon afterwards, she'd hacked into Ruth's record. It was spotless and full of praise, including a report that Harry had written which had resulted in Ruth being transferred to the Home Office. Was there a connection that had taken them both to where they were now she hoped not, or was there something that Harry had confided in to Ruth during the years that she had been his analyst? Either way, they were both in deep trouble and somehow or other, she and the rest of their colleagues had to fix it.

There was also the possibility that she was reading more into this than was necessary and that Ruth simply needed time to come to terms with Harry's extradition. If that meant that she'd taken herself off for a few days, then good luck to her, she would back her all the way. That didn't ring true though. Ruth never took time off work even when she was poorly so disappearing without an explanation was a totally uncharacteristic thing for her to have done. Unlikely as it might be, another dark thought had crept into Beth's head that she discounted immediately. Rather than face life without Harry, Ruth had done something silly. Maybe she did need to talk to Margot, before they went to see Malcolm?

* * *

'Good heavens no,' Malcolm exclaimed, as he showed them into the tiny bedsit and Callum in an attempt to lighten the mood, suggested that he lived there. 'This has been Harry's bolthole for years. We've had many a clandestine meeting here when the power's-that-be have attempted to conspire against us, although never to this extent,' was said with genuine concern in his voice.

'We're all new to this Malcolm, we don't have the history to back up any of our theories and to be honest we don't really know where to start,' was Callum's honest assessment as he dusted off a chair and suggested Malcolm sit down.

'Well I certainly have the history,' Malcolm told them with a wry grin, 'so ask away, because I'll do anything to help Ruth and Harry, other than to talk about their personal lives.'

Admirable thought Beth. It was exactly the loyalty that they had been hoping for from Malcolm, but this was personal in some way, she was sure about that and the connection needed to be made.

'Time isn't on our side Malcolm, we need your help and I'm absolutely certain that with Harry and Ruth quite possibly fighting to stay alive, whatever you tell us wouldn't be considered to be an indiscretion.' She told him.

Whilst Tariq made them all a cup of tea, Malcolm considered what Beth had said. She was right, it wasn't the time to hold back, they needed to know.

'What I am about to tell you, is absolutely confidential and must never be repeated beyond these four walls,' he told them, waiting until they all nodded before he continued. 'This isn't the first time that Harry and Ruth have been separated, which if you dig deeply enough you will find out. I'm not suggesting that what has happened now has any baring on that, but I would stake my life on the fact that whoever has orchestrated this, was around at the time.'

'And?' ask Callum when Malcolm paused.

'Almost from the first moment that Ruth arrived on the grid, there was a connection between them, it was uncanny. Ruth came to us from GCHQ, she was brilliant and just what we needed to shake the section up. Harry was besotted with her and eventually plucked up the courage to ask her out. But when some of their colleagues started to whisper behind her back, she put a stop to what could have blossomed into a full blown relationship. During the years that followed we unfortunately lost a lot of field officers and Harry grew to rely on Ruth, to the point where if he wasn't around, then everyone deferred to her for information, a situation that still exists today. Harry's innocent so presumably has been set up, but why on earth Ruth's been targeted again or just gone missing, I have no idea.'

'So we're stuffed,' suggested Dimitri rather unhelpfully.

'Absolutely not, there has to be an explanation, and I'm supposing that I've been invited here to find out what it is?' Malcolm asked Callum, going on to say that he couldn't do this on his own because he didn't have the resources any more.

'Which is where Tariq comes in.' Callum told him. 'He'll work with you and send you encrypted files of everything that we dig up. He'll also be the liaison between you and us on the grid. If you spot anything or remember something no matter how small that might have triggered this, then tell him. The rest of us need to pretend that we're working on other cases, or our new boss will get suspicious, are you fine with that?

'When do I start?' was Malcolm's predictable reply.

The two people that he cared most about, apart from his dear old mother who he knew wouldn't be around for much longer, were in trouble and by all accounts there was the real chance that he'd never see either of them again. Harry had clawed himself back from a multitude of possible endings over the years, but if Ruth was being held up as a hostage then Malcolm knew he would break. Just as Tariq had surmised, Malcolm knew that Ruth was everything to Harry and he would rather die than let anyone hurt her, it had always been the case and Albany and his bloody suspension had been testament to that. Those though were dead and buried, the Russians and the Chinese had been placated. So it had to be something that had happened in way back in the past or maybe very recently that had triggered this to happen. He needed to think more laterally.

Shaking them all by the hand, he turned to Tariq, the young man that Harry had waxed lyrical about, kidding him that he was a far better techie than he had ever been. Well now was the time for him to prove it, they were running out of time.

'Right young man,' he told him, 'this is going to be a long night.'


	2. Chapter 2

Blinded by grief and the injustice that working for the Security Services had heaped on them yet again, Ruth had declined Tower's offer of a lift back to the Home Office and had chosen instead to walk beside the Thames where she would find anonymity, but most of all some privacy from what would be the 'have you heard what's happened' whispers, had she returned to her desk. She was certain that Towers would understand her decision. His comment when they'd had dinner that he didn't want to be a home wrecker, surely meant that he'd guessed about her relationship with Harry, so would accept what she already knew to be her resignation and her need to move on. With faltering steps that she could no longer control, she took a deep breath before heading into the park where she felt safe and if she tried hard enough, could believe that Harry would be waiting for her. Pulled by the invisible magnet that had always bound them together, she bought herself a coffee and found the familiarity if their bench. She needed time to think. When Harry had kissed her he had slipped her the keys to his house, urging her to use it as a sanctuary during the few precious days before it would be invaded by unwanted visitors. And oh how she wanted to, if only to lose herself in the memories. Memories that were beautiful but too recent, she knew she couldn't do it.

Determining that she had to be honest with Towers, she dragged herself to her feet, wrapped her coat tightly around her and headed towards the park gates. It was then that her phone rang and with it the summons to Thames House. Believing this to be an offer of help and please god she thought salvation for Harry, her spirits had lifted and she'd almost raced through the doors and up to the fourth floor.

The smile that was threatening to break through was wiped away in the first moments, as the threats and humiliating insinuations concerning her and Harry, none of which were true but she had no way of disproving, were compounded by any decision about her future or indeed Harrys, being taken out of her hands.

'I trust we understand each other,' said her accuser as she balled up her fists behind her back and forced herself not to cry, before she backed out of the office and then out of the building without looking back.

When she'd arrived home, she'd tried but failed to avoid a concerned Beth, before she'd shut herself in her bedroom, dragged as many clothes as possible into the only suitcase that she had, and then cried herself to sleep.

Why on earth had Harry been so stubborn and not listened to her was the burning question to which she didn't have an answer. At least if she'd had the chance to talk to him face to face as she had done hundreds of times over the intervening years, he might been with her now rather than thousands of miles away. There was no alternative other than to do what she had been ordered to do and commit herself to another exile. This time though, there would be no coming back.

At 3am, with her small case stowed in the back of the car, the pre- programmed sat nav showing her the destination, bleak and inhospitable she imagined it to be and so very far away, she drove north out of London, leaving Ruth Evershed behind.

* * *

It had been a further week without any progress, when Callum had ordered Beth to search Ruth's room. Beth had felt extremely uncomfortable about doing it, Ruth's room was sacrosanct and she suspected that no one other than perhaps Harry, had ever previously had access. Not surprisingly bearing in mind that Ruth had left in a hurry and at night, it looked as though it had been burgled. Drawers had been dragged open an emptied, the bed was unmade and the small bookcase where Ruth kept her most precious of books had been raided and was empty. It had been a painstaking and difficult search but as a consequence several hours later, was the reason that she was sitting outside Catherine Townsend's front door with the letters in her hand. There were three in total, one of which had been addressed to her.

Dear Beth,

Firstly I must apologise for any trouble that may have been heaped on you all as a result of my sudden disappearance. The flat is yours I have no further use for it, so stay there for as long as you wish.

I entrust to you the other two letters enclosed in this envelope. One is for Harry's daughter Catherine and the other I suspect you would have guessed anyway, is for Harry. Whatever else you do or don't do, please ensure that Catherine gets her letter, but more importantly guard Harry's letter with your life. It is the most difficult thing that I have ever had to write and vitally important to both of us that he receives it.

I hold little or more precisely no hope that I will ever see any of you again and that includes Harry. His letter alone explains why, but I want you to know and hope that you will believe, that this is not of my choosing, Harry will know that.

Explain as best you can to Catherine my relationship with her father and ask her to look after him for me when you bring him home.

Last but not least, I assure you that although I may not have done much by way of making you feel comfortable living in my home, you've been a breath of fresh air and I count you as a true friend.

Stay safe and please say goodbye to Tariq for me.

Ruth.

P/S Sorry I left my bedroom in a mess.

Beth was tough, Beth didn't cry or she hadn't until then, as relief engulfed her that Ruth was alive and apparently safe, but with a rage that had her throwing the glass of wine that she was holding against the wall of what had so recently been Ruth's bedroom, with ferocity worthy of Harry.

If Beth felt upset, then it paled into insignificance compared to the tear stained face of Harry's daughter that sat clinging to Callum's hand, when Beth gave her Ruth's letter and then gave it her best shot in describing Ruth's relationship with her dad.

'Malcolm's probably better qualified to have told you this than me, but I guess Ruth didn't want to upset him any more than he already is, but you could always ask him,' she suggested.

Callum had made them all a cup of tea, his mind warring as to the content of Ruth's letters and why she had written them, most significantly the one to Harry which lay unopened on the coffee table. Ruth first and foremost was a spy and a bloody good problem solver, so maybe within the letters she had left them a message or some sort or a clue. She was alive and certainly not incarcerated with Harry which was a huge relief, but that still didn't explain why she'd had to leave so suddenly and more importantly where she was. Catherine's letter was on the same lines as Beth's, but full of regrets that she'd never had the chance to meet her. Which only left Harry's letter and that was for his eyes only, they couldn't open that.

'Bear with me, read Ruth's letter to you again Beth?' he asked her, 'there has to be something in there that will help us'.

Beth didn't want to read it again, she almost knew it by heart she'd read it so many times, but Callum was her boss as well as Harry's prospective father in law and was as desperate as she was to help Harry. Taking a deep breath, she read it twice, the second time out loud, which caused Callum to let go of Catherine's hand.

'Ask Catherine to look after him for me 'when' you bring him home,' Ruth had said, not 'if you bring him home.'

'You were wrong Beth,' Callum told her, 'Ruth's disappearance is totally _in_ character.'

'What do you mean?'

'She's done this for Harry. Whoever dispatched Ruth to wherever she is now, knew about the relationship between her and Harry. They knew that Harry was going to be extradited and must have convinced Ruth that were she to leave, that Harry would be released and be able to come home. That means that it's someone with whom both Ruth and Harry have a joint history and who Ruth spoke to after she and Harry had said goodbye.' He needed to call Malcolm and Tariq.

* * *

Tariq was on sick leave, he had flu according to the medical certificate that had been presented to Erin and it was him that answered Malcolm's home phone.

'I'm on to it,' he told Callum, switching his computer back on and pulling up the picture of Ruth and Harry standing beside the Thames.

'Check Ruth's movements again, from the moment that Harry left her standing there,' Callum was telling him, 'right up until the last time that Beth saw her before she'd disappeared.'

* * *

One week earlier.

Susan Barnes was making reasonable progress, mainly due to the fact that she was driving at night, when apart from the incessant stream of lorries that she had been forced to overtake, driving on the motorways was far less frenetic. Amongst the instructions that she had been given, were that in order not to draw attention to herself that she should adhere to the speed limits at all times and that she wasn't to deviate from the route that had been set. She had twelve hours in which to reach the first of the two ferries, where a pre-paid ticket would be waiting for her.

She was a frustrated amateur writer who had been sent on an assignment by one of the islands one-time resident's family, to research its heritage with a view to publishing their late father's memoirs. Money was no object and the small cottage, the keys to which were stowed in her case had been made over in her name. After a reasonable amount of time, having become part of the community she was to announce to them that she'd made the decision to stay there. It was to be a one way trip and she must have absolutely no contact with anyone from her life as Ruth Evershed.

Ruth loved the sea she had done since she had been a small child, when holidays had involved camping in an antiquated tent, which she and Peter used to tease her father he'd kept from the time that he had been in the Home Guard. This though was in another time and she had never felt so alone. Cyprus had been lovely in its way but despite the manner in which she had been forced to return, she no longer felt guilty that she had always loved Harry. Their relationship had moved on from the hesitant days and since she'd been working at the Home Office, had reached a point where the inevitable had become just that. On the glorious night after the Russians had been sent packing, Harry had thrown caution to the wind and suggested that they go out for a meal, but in the end they'd shared a takeaway in his kitchen. One thing as they say, had led to another and they'd both been late for work the next day. Beth had known where she'd stayed, she was quite sure about that, but unusually for her she'd said nothing and now this, it was so bloody unfair.

Had Beth found her letters, she hoped so. It was the only chance that she'd get to tell Harry that she loved him but to tell him that he had to let her go, no matter what. It was the only option if they wanted to ensure his safety and that was all that mattered.

'We'll be away soon lovey,' said a friendly voice who introduced himself as Angus, as she climbed out of the car and wrapped her arms tightly around her against the biting cold. 'Take yourself inside out of this wind and have some breakfast, it'll make you feel better,' did nothing to raise her spirits as she followed her fellow passengers in the direction of the small lounge, where a few hardy souls with stomachs much more steady than hers felt, were tucking in to what looked like bacon sandwiches. The last thing she needed was to be sick and she really couldn't face having to speak to people with the real possibility of breaking down, so she stayed on deck despite the cold.

She'd told herself that she'd cope with the moment when the mainland disappeared from sight, but she was wrong, the memories were still there and just as it had been all those years ago beside the Thames, she was sure that she could feel her heart breaking. Clinging hard to the railings with the tears that were tumbling unabated blending with the rain and the wind, her mind was awash with Harry and what could have been.

Two hours and a second ferry journey later, the Island of Harris and Lewis, part of Scotland's Outer Hebrides surrendered itself out of the mist. Had it been Summer, then the ferry would have been teeming with tourists and nature lover's, looking for their annual escape from their everyday lives. The twice a week ferry that operated out of season, carried the post, supplies and the occasional local who for whatever reason had made a trip to the mainland and was returning home. One such young man, dressed far more appropriately against the cold than Ruth was, wasn't concentrating as he headed out from the warmth of the lounge onto the deck and walked straight into Ruth's path, causing her to stumble.

'Christopher Robson,' he said, introducing himself and then going on to apologise for being so clumsy.

'Susan Barnes,' Ruth told him, using her new name for the first time and then seeing the sad look in her new acquaintance's eyes, felt obliged to ask him if he was alright.

'I work in Liverpool,' he told her, 'I'm back home for a funeral, me Granny's died,' was said in the gentlest of Scottish accents, confirming to her how out of place she was going to sound in her new surroundings.

'I'm sorry,' she told him. 'I've just lost someone too,' was on the tip of her tongue to tell him, but she kept silent. If needs be she could add it to her legend at another time. It would explain how wretched she'd probably look.

Realising that if she didn't get into her car soon, the ferry would be heading on its return journey and she with it, she took a chance and offered him a lift.

Without a car, the bus ride to Liurbost which was where Christopher's parents lived was a long one and he accepted gratefully. It was close to where Ruth was heading and as he had grown up on the island and would know the way it seemed a neighbourly thing to do and by now she was grateful for the company. It was a foot in the door without her having to make any effort and it was a chance to test her legend. She'd found a friend, no matter how obliquely. She felt slightly more confident.

Having dropped him off outside what he described to her was the post office and general stores that his parents owned and where she could supposedly buy anything, she travelled the last mile down a narrow road, sign-posted residents only to her destination. Tucked low down and protected from the prevailing wind that was racing over the headland, a smattering of white painted stone cottages one of which was hers, lay claim to a wide bay that overlooked the sea. At any other time the scene would have been idyllic, but to Ruth it was foreboding, alien and nothing like the broad expanse of sand in Suffolk that she had set her heart on. Fumbling for the keys, she dragged her case indoors, surprised how warm it felt despite the fact that the heating wasn't on or the fire lit. She was hungry, she was tired but she was Ruth Evershed and determined not to let herself or more importantly Harry down, so she set about lighting the fire and having unloaded her shopping made herself something to eat.

The cottage was exactly as it had been described to her and in truth not dissimilar to the one of her dreams, which wasn't what she'd expected. There was a large picture widow that overlooked the bay and had she been the author that she was supposed to be, would have been a perfect place to sit and write. The kitchen and the sitting room weren't over large but were well appointed and the furniture was surprisingly good considering that it had never been anything other than a holiday cottage. Having finished her meal, she eventually forced herself to go upstairs, her thoughts of Harry returning and what might have been. The similarity to the upstairs in the little house in Suffolk was so striking that it was here that she finally gave way to her emotions. Fully dressed she climbed onto the bed, pulled the bedcovers around her and let the tears flow.

* * *

While Ruth fell into a troubled sleep, an ocean away, the man that she loved and that she had sacrificed herself to save, was dragging himself into consciousness ahead of a new day. For a week now his persecutors had left him alone, he suspected that he knew why and that it wouldn't last, he'd seen and had done to others too many times. Devoid of company the days were endless and almost worse than those with the hours of questioning. Why they hadn't just killed him and be done with it he didn't know, he was grateful for the respite however long it might continue, it gave him time to think.

What were his team doing, had they been able to persuade his captors that he was innocent? Had Towers finally found the courage to speak out on his behalf? He didn't know the answers, he had to wait. More importantly were the questions to which he craved answers more than any others. Had Ruth bought the cottage that she had described to him, was she safe and well and making the life for herself that he had asked of her? They soothed and broke him in equal measure.

.


	3. Chapter 3

Malcolm's decision to leave the service had been a well-reasoned one, with no thought that he'd ever go back. He was bone tired, he'd done his bit and his ageing old Mum needed him at home and not just in the evenings and at weekends. So he'd shaken Harry's hand, fully confident that he'd be fine now that Ruth was back in his life. He'd been fairly certain that it wouldn't be an instant return to the equilibrium that had existed before she'd left. They'd need time to find a way to work together again, to resurrect what they'd once had, but they'd get there in the end they always had, he'd been sure about that. So when he'd answered his phone and heard Catherine's voice, he'd been overjoyed. It had been years since he'd seen her and been called Uncle Malcolm and it had warmed his battered old heart that after all those years that she still thought of him as her adopted Uncle. His immediate reaction was that it was just a catch up call and that she was ringing from Harry's, until she'd dissolved into tears and pleaded with him to listen to Callum because her dad was in trouble. The fact that she'd also mentioned Ruth's name hadn't come as a surprise until Callum had elaborated and his blood had run cold.

'Of course he'd help,' he told him, 'it went without question.'

He'd immediately taken to Tariq, in fact they'd formed an instant bond without any effort on either of their parts. He reminded him of Colin. Quiet and respectful but above all discreet and in this situation discretion was everything. He clearly cared about Ruth and Harry that shone bright like a beacon and to Malcolm was the crowning glory about the young man, in what would later prove to be a crucial factor in their working relationship.

The footage of Ruth had ended abruptly when she had arrived home and there was nothing to show her leaving again, which had to have been before 6am the next morning when Beth had called her but got no response. The outside of Ruth's flat had hidden surveillance which under Harry's instruction he'd added himself when she'd first come back, fearful that there might be repercussions after Mani's or maybe George's demise, so there could be no other explanation other than it had been tampered with. They were working blind.

'We make a list,' he told Tariq, 'and then we take an in depth look at all these characters, whether they're alive or dead. Unless I'm mistaken, then one of them has to be the link to what has happened now.' The list was long, but then so was Malcolm's memory and if Harry's extradition and now Ruth disappearance had been opportunist rather than a long term decision, then it could be related to something that had happened recently as well as in the past, when one of more of these what Harry would have described as bastards had crossed their paths.

'Start with the latest characters,' he told him, as Tariq typed in Erin Watts and William Towers. 'After this is where it gets tricky, because half of the others are dead or have conveniently disappeared.'

Harry's exploits in Ireland were lengthy and messy but were far too long ago for them to have any bearing, as was his involvement in the cold war days when he'd spent a lot of time in Germany and one very brief trip to Russia. That left the most recent years since Harry had become Section Head and since Ruth had stumbled her way onto the grid and more specifically into his life. The Cotterdam fiasco resulting in Ruth's exile and then heart breaking return, Yalta, Albany and with it Harry's subsequent suspension and then Connie's and Lucas's betrayals made a long list that Tariq had to research, but Malcolm had to believe that they would find the link. There was only so much time before Harry would break and would be lost to them forever.

'Cotterdam screams Mace, an odious man who at the time of the enquiry was head of six and is currently who knows where,' Malcolm told him, 'but you might be able to find out if you dig deep enough and assuming that it hasn't been deleted from the file. Yalta which you may or may not have come across brings all sorts of people into the picture, but we'll concentrate on previous associates or maybe friends of Juliet Shaw,' he suggested. 'She and Harry have previous.

'Then of course there's Albany which I do know about, which saw Harry play Russian Roulette with Lucas and the Chinese to save Ruth's life,' said Tariq, interrupting Malcolm's train of thought about Juliet Shaw and just how powerful and ultimately deceitful she had been.

Connie's betrayal, Malcolm thought it unlikely that there was a connection, but Richard Dolby had been around in those days and had tried to get Harry dismissed, so maybe he merited investigation?

* * *

On the grid, life had apparently resumed as though their colleagues were obeying Erin's instructions and any talk of Harry or Ruth's current predicaments were a thing of the past. Coded messages and a shared coffee or lunch break ensured that by the time Callum rang Malcolm each evening there were always a few titbits to pass on. The CIA or more precisely the lack of them was a case in point and it concerned them. They were usually all over section D like a rash but were currently conspicuous by their absence, having presumably been placated by the fact that they believed that they had got their man. One thing that Callum had managed to discover by talking to an ex colleague at six, was that the CIA had received an anonymous tip off that that Harry was the person who had given the order to kill Jim Coaver, but who it had come from he didn't know, so was at the top of his list to find out.

Erin more than anyone was relieved that things had seemingly settled down and that her staff had heeded her warning. She'd always craved promotion and the fact that it had come sooner rather than later didn't matter. Harry was guilty and as such he had to take his punishment, no one was indispensable and it didn't warrant the investigation that Callum had been demanding.

* * *

Also batting for Harry and by association Ruth, the first steps to their salvation were about to be fought on two fronts, the first of which was at the Home Office. The recently panicking Home Secretary had thought long and hard about his failure to prevent Harry's extradition and amongst all the protagonists, was the first person that was starting to buckle under the pressure. Consumed with regrets that both Harry and Ruth were no longer jointly part of the cog that ensured the safety of the nation, his conscience was telling him that it was still within his the power to help and if he had any self- worth or indeed conscience, then he should do it, no matter what the consequences to him personally.

He'd already sought out Margot and offered her his sincere apology before ensuring her that if she were to return to work, then her position as PA to his newly appointed security advisor was guaranteed. David Roberts, young and obviously ambitious had arrived within a couple of days of Ruth disappearance and was in Tower's opinion somewhat shady and far less forthcoming with the information that he was prepared to offer. He didn't trust this young man, he wanted Ruth back and it was this which had kick started his current thought process and was making him more and more convinced that he should discuss it with someone. He was fully aware that Erin Watts who was sitting in Harry's chair had arrived like a bolt from the blue, much as David Roberts had, so if he intended confessing his sins then he had to go elsewhere, and that meant talking to Callum Reid.

* * *

Across the pond, Harry's one time friend Bob Hogan had long since retired and was spending his days on the coast, wrapped in the arms of his recently acquired English wife Helen. Old spies didn't just fade away and he had heard a rumour that his one-time buddy Harry had been incarcerated and as the crow flies was 'just up the road'. He'd been curious, it wasn't like Harry to have got himself caught no matter what he'd done, never mind get himself extradited. Bob had been around for years and he also knew how close Harry had been to Jim Coaver and why, he'd read the files. There was no way in hell no matter what had happened that Harry would have sanctioned his death. Harry might be a ruthless bastard but above all he was fair and always loyal to his friends, so someone else was responsible for this and someone had speak up for him and tell them.

'I won't be long,' he told a smouldering Helen, as he climbed out bed, glad for the respite from her continual demands and walked into the bathroom. She'll be the death of me he thought with a grin.

The gun touting muppet on the door had never heard of him he said, but he stood his ground and having thrown him a few names, was eventually allowed back into the inner sanctum and up to what had once been his office. By the time that he left an hour later, he'd earned Harry a reprieve whilst they did some more investigating, they would let him know the outcome, but for now, no he couldn't see or speak to Harry.

* * *

Still fully dressed and feeling as though she had been wearing her current clothes for days, Ruth woke up to a sunny morning. She'd seen no need to draw the curtains the previous evening such had been the darkness, but now the sun was streaming in through her bedroom window and she could hear nothing apart from what sounded like sheep bleating. Dragging herself out of bed she walked across to the window and bent low, to a view that was all encompassing. She was facing east and with the sun just coming up over the horizon the sunrise was amazing. Between her and the sea, there was nothing apart from a field with a few sheep and an old man walking his dog. She was utterly alone in what to anyone who had chosen to be there would have been paradise, but to her was heart breaking.

'Shower first and breakfast,' she told herself out loud, biting her lip to control her rising emotions and then she needed to explore and to get her bearings.

The water was hot, so someone had obviously fired up the boiler assuming that there was one. Maybe there was a caretaker that she hadn't been told about? Her meeting had been a short one and she hadn't stayed long enough for him to elaborate, she'd just grabbed the file that had been handed to her and run, she needed to read it. That brought her thoughts back to Harry and her heart sank. She had to find a way to stop thinking about him which was virtually impossible at the moment, or she'd go insane. Time healed didn't it according to the experts, well she had plenty of that, but what the hell did they know had they ever been in love like she was?

Back in her bedroom she piled her travel dirty clothes into a basket and dug out her warmest trousers and her heaviest jumper and headed back downstairs. The washing up from the previous evening stared back at her from the draining board.

'Come on Ruth,' she told herself and the vacuum of the empty house that surrounded her. 'You need order, it's how you function and you need to decide what the hell you're going to do with the rest of her life.'

As it was a sunny day, a good point to start would be to walk into the heart of the village and to see what was there, she decided. Toast and tea demolished and with the washing up done, she made a list of what she needed, with another horrible realisation that she didn't have to buy coffee any more. She certainly needed some extra warm and completely casual clothes, would she ever wear anything formal, she doubted it. How far was it to the nearest large town, she needed to buy a map and she certainly needed to stock up in case the weather broke.

'I'm Susan Barnes, I'm a writer,' she told herself, as she shut the door behind her and walked out into the sunshine and breathed in the crystal clear air.

The walk to the village wasn't a long one although it was uphill and Ruth realised to her detriment that she was far from fit. Well that would have to change if she intended surviving which she did, she wasn't going to be remembered as a quitter. Everything looked so different from the previous evening when she'd first arrived, she just hoped she'd blend in and that no one would stop and ask her questions. It seemed highly unlikely though in such a small community.

'Susan,' said a familiar voice, as a hand rested on her shoulder and she very nearly jumped out of her skin. 'Have you settled in, do you fancy a walk around the village?'

Christopher she presumed on second glance was in his late twenties or maybe his early thirties, about the same age as Dimitri and with a similar twinkle in his eye. He was much too young for her to have been interested, with or without Harry, so why not she decided.

For the next hour they wandered, not at the route march speed that he had set off at but at Ruth's more leisurely pace, stopping outside the tiny church which Ruth thought was beautiful and that she would like to look at, until Christopher mentioned that it was here that his granny was to be buried and he wanted to walk on. Climbing even higher up the road to a spot that was appropriately called the High Point they reached the village hall, where according to Christopher there were apparently plenty of activities and groups that Ruth could join if she was interested. Behind that and to one side stood the primary school, in a position that even Ruth had to concede must be a wonderful spot to go to school. According to her enthusiastic guide he'd spent many happy years there before he'd gone to secondary school in Stornoway and then over to Liverpool where he'd attended University. He loved his island but he'd grown to love England and especially the Northern Counties which were less crowded than the south and he appeared to know well.

'I originate from Devon,' said Ruth, telling him the truth and realising too late that she'd veered away from her legend. 'The West Country's popular for holidays, it always has been,' she told him, 'but it's inundated with tourists.'

'So what are you going to do to occupy yourself here in this little piece of paradise,' was the one question that Ruth did have the answer to, but she needed to elaborate to avoid further questions.

'Write, I'm here to write a book and maybe find a choir to join,' she said without thinking, as Christopher told her that his Uncle was the choirmaster at the local church and he was sure that she'd be welcome.

'Maybe at some time in the future,' Ruth suggested backtracking and not wanting to commit to being part of the community just yet or appear pushy, which she certainly wasn't. 'I need to explore the island first and I have a lot of research to do for my book,' she lied to him. 'Maybe after a few months when I have more time on my hands, I might branch out a bit, but not just yet.' Time on her hands was the one thing that she did have, she had nothing to fill it and it started now.

Their tour ended at the village shop where she stocked up on groceries and bought herself a pair of walking boots and another couple of heavy sweaters. Elegant they certainly weren't, comfy was the way to describe them and so far removed from what she'd worn during her years at Thames House and then at Home Office as to look comical. But who was there to see her other than locals and she needed to blend in and keep warm with the winter fast approaching. With far too much to carry on her own, the ever gallant Christopher offered to help her carry her purchases back down to the house.

'I'll be gone after the funeral tomorrow and I won't be back until Christmas, so I'd like to repay your kindness yesterday,' had Ruth handing over a couple of her heavier bags.

Having walked for the best part of the morning, Ruth's legs were already aching, but she certainly wasn't going to tell him that. Maybe if I take to walking and do it more regularly she thought to herself, then by the time that Christmas comes round, I'll be able to match Christopher's pace. She'd never enjoyed walking but it was a challenge that maybe she should set herself, if she could cope with the inevitable blisters. The view as they walked back down to her house was beautiful, Ruth couldn't deny that, but it was to the east and not to the west where her heart lay. Would she have the courage to explore the other side of the island and to stand on whatever headland she found herself, knowing that Harry was out there somewhere? Of course she would, she wouldn't be able to prevent it. Which way was London, she was rubbish when it came to directions? He'd be back there soon, at the end of a phone and available to her, if she were to weaken. Perhaps she was already going insane considering that as an option? Harry was lost to her forever and she had to do as she had been told and move on.

'Are you alright Susan?' had her dragging herself back to the present and the need to appear contained and not someone who was mourning a loss.

'I'm fine just a bit tired,' she lied again, as it tripped off her tongue like the spy that she was.

She'd lit the fire before she'd gone out and the house certainly felt warm and cosy.

'I don't drink coffee,' she told him, apologising that it was either tea or water, as he settled himself down at her kitchen table and she felt obliged to offer him a sandwich, praying that she hadn't left anything lying around that would alert him to the fact that she wasn't who she said she was.

Her most prized possession was her one and only photograph of Harry that Zaf had insisted that she take with her when she'd gone to Cyprus. It had been wrong to take it then and it was certainly wrong to keep it now, but she knew that she'd never be able to part with it. It was in a small silver frame on her bedside table and she adored it.


	4. Chapter 4

When the call had been put through, Callum had hesitated. He'd never met the Home Secretary and seeing enemies at every corner he'd told a lie, telling him that he was in a meeting and would he call him back, after which he'd called the oracle, he'd spoken to Malcolm.

'Ridiculous as it seems bearing in mind he's a politician, Harry likes Towers,' Malcolm told him, 'just be careful, that's my advice.'

Despite the fact that Towers had been insistent, he was quite sure that he shouldn't be meeting him and certainly not sitting the other side of a dinner table in one of London's finest restaurants. Still if they needed anonymity and Towers had insisted that it was essential, then who was he to argue.

'I want you to re-open the enquiry into the James Coaver shooting,' Towers told him without preamble, as the wine waiter arrived and poured them both a drink.

Now what did he say, did he ask him why or did he confess that he his entire team had been working night and day to prove that Harry was innocent? Moreover that he'd re recruited Malcolm who was currently working with Tariq and that they were digging deep into files, some of which were probably classified and that their new section head was completely in the dark?

Catherine wasn't coping, in fact it had got to the stage where if something didn't happen soon she'd hop onto a plane herself and fly to the United States in an effort to find her father, and he couldn't let that happen.

'Actually it's not officially closed although our new section head isn't aware of this,' was a huge gamble but it brought a smile to Towers face. 'To be honest Sir we haven't made much progress, although we have recently receive a tip off that an ex officer of the CIA who is also a friend of Harry's has put in a word for him,' he told him. 'With any luck it might buy us and more importantly Harry a bit more time.'

'Do you know how he is, it's been weeks now?' was the question to which Callum didn't have an answer and Towers really didn't want to contemplate what it might be.

'We know that he's still alive but we have no idea what kind of state he's in or what's being done to him,' resulted in Towers pushing away the plate of appetisers that had arrived with their drinks. 'There's been a suggestion Sir,' he continued, 'that they'd welcome one of my team flying over to help with the investigation, but I doubt if Erin would sanction that.'

'Stop calling me Sir, leave Miss Watts to me and enjoy your dinner son,' made Callum feel as though he was still in short trousers until Towers elaborated. 'Once we leave here go home and pack , if it's you that wants to go, which I'm assuming it is?' Hadn't been the answer that Callum had been expecting, but was certainly the one that he wanted to hear as would his colleagues, but not necessarily Catherine.

Could he trust Towers, he still didn't know, but if his offer was a genuine one and he really was prepared to help, then he might prove a powerful ally that would be able to open doors that they couldn't.

'May I speak to you in confidence about another issue Sir?' he asked the Home Secretary unable to call him William for the evening as had been suggested. Receiving a reassuring smile, he went on to tell Towers that Ruth had left a letter for one of her colleagues, the contents of which had led them to believe that her disappearance was not of her choosing.

'She would never desert her post without good reason, I want you to know that,' was an undisputable fact which Towers already knew, but in this instance he said nothing, just nodded. 'Ruth is loyal to the core,' Callum continued, 'and we believe that she was left with no other option, by someone who convinced her that were she to go that it would help Harry's cause. Unfortunately were still no closer to finding where she's gone or who was responsible.'

The fact that Ruth had also left a letter Catherine and more importantly for Harry was a piece of information that Towers didn't need to be told. It was irrelevant, it would be breaking a huge confidence and he had made his point.

Towers appeared to be mulling over what Callum had told him as they continued to eat their meal, and it was a while before he spoke.

'Divide and conquer would be my suggestion,' he told him, going on to explain that he'd worked with Harry for a long time and Ruth for less so, but was fully aware that together they formed a formidable partnership, but split them up and neither of them functioned or coped to their full potential.

Partnership was an interesting word for Towers to have used, thought Callum. Did he mean it in all senses of the word? Did he know what they all knew, perhaps he did? Whatever his reason for saying it, he did appear to be genuinely concerned for Ruth and Harry's safety, so he had to take him at his word.

'So Ruth's an essential piece in this puzzle and if we can't find her, we may never know whose engineered this and why, is that what you're saying?' brought another sobering nod and a raise of Tower's eyebrows.

'Meet with this ex CIA bod, put your heads together and bring Harry home, that's the first step,' was Tower's suggestion. 'Harry will move heaven and earth to find Ruth and not just because she's a valuable work colleague, I'd stake my life on it,' brought an end to the conversation, an answer to Callum's earlier unspoken question and the arrival of their main courses.

* * *

'He's gone where?' shouted an apoplectic Erin, when by ten the following morning Callum still hadn't arrived for work and Beth had finally plucked up the courage to tell her where he'd gone.

They were in the meeting room where Erin was dishing out their duties for the day, which now that Callum was flying high over the Atlantic, meant that for the first time in weeks, they actually had time to do as she was asking.

'And Tariq, where's he, are you about to suggest that I'm about to receive another certificate?' she continued to bellow, as Dimitri and Beth glanced at each other and made the combined and wise decision not to answer. If Erin found out that Callum had re recruited Malcolm, albeit that he wasn't being paid, it could spell curtains, certainly for Harry. 'Well are either of you going to tell me?' she yelled again when nothing was forthcoming.

With that the meeting room door swung open and the Home Secretary strode in, letting Dimitri and Beth off the hook for the moment and caused Erin to stop shouting.

'Please both of you stay where you are,' Towers told Dimitri and Beth, who had both made a move to leave and Erin the wise decision to be pleasant to their newly arrived guest and ring for some coffee.

'It's good to see you Home Secretary,' she told him, feeling anything but pleased that Towers had arrived unannounced. 'To what do we owe this pleasure?'

Whatever Erin had been expecting Towers to say, it wasn't what followed.

'I'm sure that I don't need to remind any of you,' said Towers looking directly at Erin, 'that in this country there is an innocent until proven guilty policy that in Harry's case was woefully ignored. Harry was let down at all levels and I include myself in that statement. He should have been allowed time to prove himself innocent, before he was dragged away and I can only presume being tortured into making him confess to something of which I believe him to be innocent. We let him down, I want that rectified, do you hear me?'

Erin wanted to ask him why, but thought better of it. There were junior staff present and she was already on the back foot with a mutinous group of colleagues who had apparently ignored every order that she'd given since Harry had been extradited. The situation, certainly in Erin's case got even worse when Towers put down his coffee cup and continued with what had now turned into his briefing.

'I met with your section chief yesterday evening and it was me who personally authorised that he should fly to the United States and mediate on Harry's behalf,' was met by two barely controlled smiles and caused Erin's mouth to drop open. 'If any of you have a problem with that,' he continued, 'then you are welcome to discuss it at a later date, my office door is always open.'

'Oh and by the way,' he added after a pause, standing up as if he was about to leave, which had the other three occupants of the room on their feet as well. 'Once your esteemed boss is back and sitting behind his desk, I'm expecting a full scale search for Miss Evershed. I want her back as I'm sure you all do, is that understood?' was greeted by an 'absolutely sir,' from a now much happier Beth.

Callum had left a tearful Catherine behind, fearful that for some un-rational reason that she couldn't explain, that he'd disappear as well. She'd always hated the job that her dad had done, she didn't understand it and the last thing that she'd ever imagined herself doing was to be going out with a spy. But when he'd come home late one evening and Callum had been with him, there'd been an instant attraction and it had gone on from there. When he'd promoted Callum to section head, she'd accused her dad of favouritism but she'd been secretly pleased as well. It meant that her dad had accepted him.

'I don't want you to be on your own while I'm away, so I've arranged for Beth to come and stay with you, you'll like her,' he'd told her as he kissed her goodbye, and Catherine realised that having been kept in the dark for years, that if this carried on she'd know virtually all of her dad's colleagues.

* * *

Bob Hogan was waiting at the airport to meet Callum and had arranged a room for him at a hotel close to where he lived. The airport was teeming with people, there was some sort of industrial action going on and several flights had been cancelled, it was absolute chaos, he had never experienced anything like it. Should they be successful in achieving Harry's release then there was a private plane standing by to take them home. Thank god for small mercies Callum thought as he battled his way to the luggage pick up point and eventually through security to the arrivals lounge. He liked Bob on sight and there was something about him that reminded him of Harry even in the way that he walked. He looked like an old school spy that's what it was, battered around the edges like someone who had battled for years to uphold the cause on which he himself was just embarking. He was one of the few who had survived long enough to retire, yet was still willing to step up and to help a friend. Callum admired him for that.

The drive from the airport to their hotel was a revelation in itself, it made London look like a village by comparison. It made Callum realise how tired he actually felt and that it was adrenalin and the concern for Harry's safety that was keeping him going. He yawned.

'Clean up and then grab some sleep, our appointment is after lunch and we'll need our wits about us,' Bob told him, picking up on Callum's obvious exhaustion as he dropped him off at the hotel that was in a side street and away from the hustle and bustle of the main thoroughfare. 'I'll pick you up at two.'

The first thing that Callum did after he had checked in was to call Catherine with the promise that he'd call her later, no matter what hour of the day or night it was. He couldn't answer the one question that to both of them was more important than any other, which was would he be allowed to see Harry and confirm that he was still alive?

'Is Beth with you can I have a word with he?' He asked, wanting to be sure that Beth had done what he had asked of her and to catch up on what if anything had happened since he'd left during the early hours.

'Towers was absolutely brilliant, you should have seen Erin's face,' said the ever enthusiastic Beth although Callum still had reservations, as Beth went on to relay what had happened in the meeting.

'What about Malcolm and Tariq, any progress there?' Brought a negative, although according to the most recent conversation that she'd had with them, they were making good progress in narrowing down the list and Malcolm was convinced that the answer lay in the present rather than the past.

'The thing that Tariq is still trying to crack and is convinced that he'll do it,' she told him, 'is to find out where Ruth went when she came back to Thames house, so it's fingers crossed all round.'

'Thanks Beth, say hello to everyone for me and look after Catherine, she's special,' had Callum putting down the phone and asleep in seconds.

* * *

'Whatever happens, don't let them see you lose your temper,' was Bob's last piece of advice, when four hours later they were shown into an imposing room on the fifth floor of the CIA Headquarters. After four hours of discussions they were still no closer to a breakthrough or reaching the 'entente cordiale' that Callum had been hoping for, as the CIA's head of their counter terrorism continued to make a very good case as to why they should hang on to Harry. Callum was almost at the point of conceding. The CIA had got their man they were adamant, he'd had a wasted journey.

Had Bob not intervened again by saying that he needed to use the bathroom and as Callum had flown all that way that he felt it only right that they give it one more shot, then there might well have been a mass exodus. But during the time that Bob was out of the room making a phone call rather than using the bathroom, a fresh pot of coffee had been ordered. As he marched back in, so did a young man who Callum supposed was some sort of agent similar in rank to himself.

Bob had engineered a halt for just long enough to determine Harry's ultimate fate, as at the end of the phone at what would have been midnight in the UK was the British Home Secretary, guaranteeing Harry's innocence and swearing that he could prove it. Towers had kept his word. Callum was astounded but kept his counsel, surely Towers was bluffing or had the team discovered something in the last twelve hours, he very much doubted it? Whatever Towers was saying it was becoming increasing clear that they were going to be able to strike a deal.

For a further hour they talked, patching over the inevitable cracks until the CIA were satisfied and they shook hands. It was Callum's decision with no backing other than his instinct and his overwhelming belief that Harry was innocent and his desire to save him. The Home Secretary had sent him there to do a job and on the throw of a dice or in this case a phone call instigated by Bob, they'd done it. If they would allow members of the CIA to come onto the grid and take a full and unrestricted part in the investigation and if deemed necessary to interrogate any further suspects, then they could take Harry home.

* * *

It had been well over a month since Harry had been incarcerated and more than two weeks since they had last questioned him. Apart from his meals being delivered most of which he'd barely touched, he'd seen no one. As a consequence, the days had finally blended with the nights and the nights with the days into an unending chasm. Most frightening, had those who were concerned for his welfare known, was that he had begun to lose his reason and with it his will to survive. He'd stopped sleeping, fearful that if he closed his eyes that Ruth who was there with him would disappear. They were walking barefoot across a clifftop, he could see her beautiful face and feel her hand in his and she was telling him that she loved him and would never leave him. He was in heaven and at the same time in an unspeakable hell from which there was no escape and it had reached the stage where he was so close to the edge that he couldn't define one from the other. Ruth was with him and all that mattered was that she had told him that she would be with him at the end.

It was this Harry that at long last a horrified Bob and Callum were escorted in to see.

'Jesus Harry,' said Bob, as he looked down into unseeing eyes and then spun round and advanced on their escort with a murderous look.

'When the f-k was he last time that this man was allowed to have the dignity of a shower and when did he last have something to drink, were just two of the questions that Callum was shouting at his captors, as Harry continued to mutter incoherently apart from the conversation that he was having with Ruth

'Fetch a doctor now you bastards,' yelled Bob, understanding the full implication should Harry not to make it. It would spell the end of any relationship that the US had with one of its closest allies. There could be no cover up were the longest serving member of the British Security Services to die in their custody, for no reason other than a suspicion. Besides which Harry was a friend.

As all hell broke loose around Harry, an enraged CIA agent who had been summoned by Bob apologised to Callum for what had happened. The hierarchy so it seemed had been completely unaware that for two weeks, Harry's personal welfare had been totally disregarded by his less than caring guards. Up until then apart from their questioning, he'd been treated with respect and certainly allowed to wash and been fed at regular intervals.

Had Harry been in anyway lucid, he'd have told the medics that were unceremoniously ripping off his clothes to give the doctor access to parts of his body that apart from he and Ruth on one occasion had seen, to keep their hands to themselves, but Harry wasn't lucid and it was Harry's life and not his dignity that was the most important factor.

Callum was beyond rational thought desperately fearful of the telephone call that he'd promised he'd make to Catherine.

It took over an hour before a now clean, comfortable and drug filled Harry had finally fallen asleep, with what Callum hoped were happy dreams of Ruth. Once they were absolutely sure that Harry had been stabilised they could move him, the doctor at the British Embassy where Harry had been transferred was telling Callum, but they'd be wise to wait another twenty four hours before they could flew him home. There was always the risk of complications.


	5. Chapter 5

Whoever said that time heals doesn't know what they're talking about Ruth sighed, running her fingers across Harry's photograph and planting a gentle kiss on his dear face, as she dragged herself out of bed, to confront what she knew would be another unfulfilling day. Maybe it was just a fantasy and she hadn't spent all those years and one beautiful night in Harry's arms? Maybe he hadn't told her that he loved her? But he had, and she'd lived and breathed those memories, every waking moment of every single day.

She'd lived on the island for more than five weeks and despite her initial resolve that she'd make a new life for herself, she still found herself stuck in her dream that one day there would be a knock on her door and he'd be standing there smiling at her, wanting her as much as she wanted him. The pain of losing him and what they'd shared just never left her and despite her best efforts it had increased rather than diminished.

She longed for someone to talk to, someone that would raise her spirits. Beth would have known what to say she thought wistfully, but Beth wasn't there either she was entirely alone with her grief. Was Harry home, in which case he'd have read her letter? Had he spoken to Malcolm and had he understood the significance of what she'd said? There were only questions never answers and it was this that made up her mind that if she was going to survive, then today had to be the day to make changes. She needed to make an effort and in some way become part of the village, no matter how much she hated the idea.

Choir practice was on Tuesday evenings, wasn't that what Christopher had told her? Did she have the courage to walk into the church unannounced and tell a room full of strangers that she'd like to join them, what would Harry have told her to do? Oh God, she thought to herself, everything always came back to Harry.

In the warmth of her tiny bathroom and in an effort to feel more positive, she took a deep breath and gave herself credit that she'd survived thus far, which really wasn't a Ruth sort of thing to do. She'd managed well, especially when it had come to down to the more practical things. She'd conquered the handbook relating to the boiler and adjusted the heating to her needs, mastered the elaborate wood burner which was now staying in all night and had done a good deal of walking in her comfortable and now worn in boots. She'd rarely used the car apart from a day trip to Stornoway to buy a new set of saucepans and warmer coat and to find a decent bookshop. Apart from a day when it had been 'raining cats and dogs' she'd always walked to the village even for shopping trips. Walking was good for her she told herself and besides which it used up time.

Having finished her breakfast and washed up, she made up her mind that she'd take a walk up to The High Point, have a look at the church and see what the huge notice board told her about choir practice and the other activities that occupied the residents during the long and dark evenings of winter. The heavy sweaters and trousers that she was now wearing she'd grown to like, despite her believing that she looked twice the size that she used to. Tying up her hair into a pony tail and pulling on her woollen hat and gloves, she grabbed her coat and headed out into the cold air of the early morning.

* * *

When she'd first climbed the hill she'd had to stop several times to regain her breath, using the view as an excuse. Now though when she climbed she did it like a local and stopped only to look because she loved it and at one particular spot just outside the church. There was a seat that had been donated in memory of a couple that had sat there together in their twilight years with a quote from Shakespeare that tore into Ruth's heart.

'My bounty is as boundless as the sea. My love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have for both are infinite.'

'Susan isn't it?' said a friendly voice from behind her, interrupting her thoughts as she rubbed her eyes and turned to see a smiling face. 'I've been meaning to visit you, I'm the vicar here, I'm Michael,' he told her, holding out his hand. 'How about coming for a coffee and meeting my wife Rose?' left Ruth with little choice other than to follow his retreating figure.

The vicarage was tucked between the church and the school, the playground of which was now teeming with children between the ages of five and ten, three of which according to a proud Michael were their own.

Ruth took to Rose on sight, was it just because she was the vicar's wife and as such was able relax with anyone? Ruth thought not. She was in the kitchen baking something that to Ruth was indiscernible, flour in her hair, the chaos of a kitchen that saw children and a busy husband making demands on it at all times, but totally welcoming to anyone who dropped in. Wiping her hands on her pinafore she put the kettle on the stove, produced a plate of what was obviously homemade gingerbread and told Ruth to sit wherever she could find a seat that wasn't covered with papers magazines or toys. By the time that Michael her overworked husband bustled in five minutes later, Ruth had joined the choir without even realising it.

'Ruth's a singer Michael and she writes, isn't that wonderful,' Rose told the now very enthusiastic vicar as Ruth found herself telling them that in addition to that she also had a passion for reading. There were no questions posed that she couldn't or didn't want to answer, they weren't prying they were leaving it to her to tell them as much or as little as she wanted and that was certainly a first for as long as Ruth could remember. By the time that she left an hour later, she had a list of the regular activities and the extra ones that were being organised in the run up to Christmas, which included a children's party and a concert at the end of term, not to mention the village dance which apparently everyone attended and to which she was invited.

'What do you think dear?' Michael asked his wife, as Ruth walked back down the path in the direction of the church.

'She's perfect I'd say, a gift from heaven,' was Rose's answer.

The church wasn't as Ruth had imagined it to be, it was smaller than any church that she had ever been in. If the choir stalls were anything to go by, then the choir couldn't amount to more than maybe a dozen people, so maybe it wouldn't be as difficult meeting them as she'd presumed. She'd always been able to sing and she loved to do it. It was liberating and had always lifted her spirits, even during the darkest times of which there had been many over the past few years. Maybe it would do the same now in what was the darkest and pave the way to her feeling better? Anyway, tonight was the night she told herself, the first step to becoming part of the community. It felt like a lifetime since she'd last sung anything, so walking back down the hill with her shopping, she decided to test her voice. There was no one there to hear her apart from the sea birds that were circling overhead, and they hardly counted as critics.

Arriving back at the house another surprise awaited her. She was confronted by a huge pile of logs with a note attached to her front door telling her that Rob had gone home for his lunch but would be back later to stack them and that he drank tea. Cheeky young devil she thought talk about a hint, but it did make her laugh in what was the first time in weeks. She was mistaken in her assumptions, when two hours later Rob turned out to be an elderly man declaring that, 'he'd better be getting on with it and did she by any chance have the kettle on?'

Wondering if perhaps in view of his age she should offer to help him, in addition to supplying him with what she imagined would be endless cups of tea, she was told in no uncertain terms that this wasn't a job to be tackled by a wee lassie like herself thank you very much, he'd been delivering logs to the residents for years and he'd be done in a jiffy. Ruth by now didn't doubt it and she'd never been called a wee lassie before either.

* * *

Why on earth she had worked herself up into a state she couldn't imagine, as ten minutes after the start of the first anthem that they were practicing, she realised how much she had missed singing and how at home she felt being part of a choir again. It didn't matter that she was singing in church and that she wasn't particularly religious, in fact apart from the services that she'd attended with Harry when they'd said goodbye to colleagues, she'd only once been in a church since her childhood. That had been in Cyprus to attend a wedding, after which George had made the ill- advised decision to ask her to marry him and she'd had to confess why she wouldn't.

They sang unaccompanied other than for the lead in on an ancient piano that had seen better days, but somehow managed to stay in tune. Ruth was staggered. The organist was excellent according to one of the other three sopranos who was about Ruth's age and introduced herself as Mary. But he only turned up for services because for the rest of the time he and his wife ran the pub.

'In small village like this, nearly everyone who is fit enough has two jobs,' Mary whispered, in a break between the following Sunday's psalm and hymns. 'We all multi task even me,' she told her, but then Ruth could imagine that they had to. After an hour of practising by which time Ruth was feeling better than she had done in weeks and before they before they headed home, she found herself following the others for what was a routine cup of tea and a biscuit at the vicarage and a conversation that in her wildest dreams she could never have envisaged.

'You'll be perfect Susan, the children will love you,' Ruth heard Rose's voice in the background as she tried to reassemble her scrambled thoughts and find a way to refuse what was turning into a plea.

Mrs. Macdonald who apparently came in once a week to teach music and organised the school's Christmas concert had been rushed into hospital, and neither of the other teachers were musical.

'Please Susan,' Ruth heard for a second time, 'please say you'll do it.'

Had she not been standing within a few yards of the church with the vicar, his wife and what she now knew to be half the congregation all of whom had children at the school, she'd have used an expletive used only when stubbing your toe against something hard. 'Oh Christ,' wasn't appropriate either as she gazed at the eager faces and someone who was telling her that if she didn't do it, how disappointed the children would be.

'Alright,' she heard herself saying, as someone stuffed some sheet music into her hand and told her that the first lesson was tomorrow and that she needed to keep an eye on Robert because he sometimes got a little over excited.

She'd dealt with terrorists, surely it couldn't t be worse than that, could it?

The walk back down the hill gave her time to clear her head and by the time that she walked back in through her front door she felt better. Dressed in her warmest pyjamas and dressing gown with the kettle whistling merrily, Frosty the Snowman and Jingle Bell Rock who were staring at her from her kitchen table, didn't feel quite so daunting. They were only children after all, about the same age as Nico would have been and she'd loved him. It wasn't until now that she'd given any real thought to Christmas and realised that without this new challenge quite how bleak the weeks in the run up would have been. Perhaps this hadn't been a spur of the moment decision by the vicar and his wife, she had after all told Christopher that she loved to sing and when he'd bumped into her on the ferry, he couldn't have failed to notice that she'd been upset? Was there a Mrs Macdonald who usually taught music, did it really matter? They were offering her a chance to integrate and she'd be a fool not to make the most of it. As for the dance on the 23rd, they'd have to work a whole lot harder to get her to go to that.

* * *

Seven hundred miles away Malcolm and Catherine were in charge of keeping an eye on Harry until Callum returned from work each day. Still drugged to keep him stabilised, Harry had calmed but as yet hadn't woken for long enough to realise that he was at home. He was out of the woods as far as any physical damage was concerned but he was woefully malnourished and as a consequence had lost weight. His state of mind, especially when he first woke up expecting to see Ruth was an entirely different proposition and the one that they were dreading. Malcolm might have felt as though he'd drawn the short straw, but deep down he knew that he was the best person to help Catherine with Harry. She'd been horrified when they'd first brought him home, but with a fire in her eyes very reminiscent of her father, had been adamant that she should be the one to look after him.

One of Harry's spare bedrooms which doubled as his office, was where Malcolm was now working and continuing to liaise with Tariq, which given no choice, Erin had finally approved. Bob who had flown back with them, insisting that he wanted to see this through to the end was currently in the meeting room with Callum and Beth who had been designated to work with their counterparts from the CIA, while the rest of the section returned to normal duties dealing with the backlog of what was now a barrage of intel that was coming in.

It was late in the afternoon and just before Tariq was due to make his daily call to Malcolm that everything fell into place and had him racing into the meeting room unannounced, saying that he needed to speak to Callum, it was urgent.

'I've got a theory,' said the boy genius, hopping from one foot to the other and closely resembling an excited Ruth. 'I don't think that this is about Ruth, well only indirectly, it's all about Harry,' he told Callum, waving the sheet of paper that he was holding.

'Slow down,' Callum told him, as Tariq raced along the corridor to reach the sanctity of the Technical suite where they could be on their own.

'I don't know why and I don't know who yet, but I believe that this goes as far back as when Harry received his Knighthood which was just before Connie left,' he told him. 'I've been piecing together Harry's record from then onwards and it's been a continual downward spiral. He was falsely accused of treason and according to the records was tortured, can you believe it? Then after Ruth came back there was Albany fiasco and his suspension, which could so easily have resulted in his death at the hands of Lucas or his dismissal. Now this latest accusation that he personally ordered the death of Jim Coaver which we know isn't true,' had Callum asking Tariq to slow down again so that he could take it all in. 'I believe it's been a long term and so far failed plot to oust Harry and that he may still be in danger,' Tariq concluded.

'So why get rid of Ruth?' was the one question to which Tariq was absolutely sure that he had the answer.

'We're all new here, we don't have the long term history with Harry that she does and who's the one person that can unpick a problem as easily as the rest of us breathe? If Ruth had been sitting at her desk at the Home Office rather than being who knows where, she'd have worked all this out, and a long time before I have I'm absolutely certain,' Tariq told him.

'But why, what's the motive?'

'I've no idea, I need to dig deeper, but something must have driven whoever this it is to go to these lengths. Hate, love, jealousy, envy, revenge, take your pick, it's just a theory and I might be wrong,' had Callum shaking Tariq's hand and heading back into the meeting room.


	6. Chapter 6

'Where's Ruth?' were the only two words that Harry had spoken in the two days since he'd been virtually carried into the house, and they'd hung in the air like a sword that was about to be brought down on some unsuspecting soul. That they didn't have an answer other than 'we don't know' which sounded as empty and as shallow as it was, had resulted in his legs that were barely holding him up buckling beneath him. If it hadn't been for the fact that Callum had rung ahead and asked Dimitri to be there to help him get Harry in, he'd quite probably have been bundled back to the hospital. As it was, Callum had persuaded the medics that he'd be fine and there was nothing that a good night's sleep in his own bed wouldn't put right. Two days later he was far from fine, he was closing down and fearful of further repercussions, they still hadn't given him Ruth's letter.

'I'll try and be home early, we'll do it then,' Callum had suggested to Catherine when he'd left for the grid that morning, so when he rang to say that he was five minutes away, Catherine took the gamble. Maybe there was something in the letter that would offer her Dad some comfort or give him a clue as to where Ruth was or at least offer him a reason to keep him going? It was breaking her heart to see him like this and knowing there was nothing she could do or say to help him.

'Leave me alone,' had succeeded in getting Malcolm to flee from the room but not so Catherine. Her Dad clearly got results by shouting at his staff from time to time, but she was his daughter and in this case made of sterner stuff. She loved him and Ruth had asked her to look after him. For the first time in his life he needed her more than she needed him and she was damn well going to do it. Calling after Malcolm and asking him if he'd mind making them both some toast and a drink, she was now sitting on the floor in front of Harry's large armchair with her hand in his as he clutched Ruth's letter to his chest. His whole body was heaving, he was clearly trying to control himself and had she not been there, Catherine was sure that he would have been crying. At least he was showing some emotion and surely that had to be a good thing? She'd only once seen him cry. It was at the end of an evening when she'd orchestrated a meeting between him and Graham in the belief that their fractured relationship was fixable, until Graham had stormed out telling him that he'd never see him again. This though was so different. He was still stubbornly refusing to see a doctor, he'd barely eaten since he'd been home, he looked haunted as though all life had been sucked out of him and it had reached the stage where she was terrified that if it were it possible, he might actually die of a broken heart.

Dearest Harry, Ruth had written.

Please excuse the smudges but I'm not myself at the moment, or maybe I am. Maybe I was always destined to feel this sad.

What I am about to do and what I am about to write are not of my choosing, I promise you that and I beg you to forgive me. What lies ahead for me I have no idea, other than knowing that I have to face it alone and without you.

That I failed to tell you that I love you too will always be my biggest regret, believing that we still had a lifetime together in which I would be able to do so. Promise me that it won't diminish your memories of that beautiful night, because I do love you Harry and I always will.

Unlike the last time when I went into exile, the decision has been made for me and I've been left with no choice. There can be no kiss goodbye this time or something wonderful and knowing you as I do, there's little point in me telling you not to get shot, although please don't let that happen. I've been led to believe that even that would be a preferable option to what lies in store for you, should I stay.

If you're reading this letter then you'll be safely home with Catherine and for that I'll be thankful. Please let her be the daughter that she longs to be Harry and become part of your life. I'll feel better knowing that Catherine's looking after you.

As for me I'll be settling into who knows what, free from the past except for my memories of the years we were together and of our colleagues lost and still with us.

One day perhaps we'll both be able to make sense of all this and believe that it was worth it.

All my love,

Ruth x

PS. Please tell Malcolm how much I enjoyed our chats about The Shipping Forecast and that I'll miss him.

As he had done the first time that he'd read it, Harry closed his eyes and leant his head back against a pillow trying desperately to control the overriding emotion of helplessness that had been his constant companion since Callum had said we don't know. Ruth, his Ruth who he loved to the depths of his very soul had sacrificed herself again to save him. Wherever she was she was alone and at the mercy of whoever crossed her path and there wasn't a damn thing that he could do about it.

Going back to bed and wallowing wasn't the answer, but that was where he was heading until Malcolm arrived back in the room with the tray of toast and tea as requested, that coincided with Callum arriving home and telling them that he had Tariq in the car and could he come in?

* * *

Harry's office made for a much more comfortable working environment than the safe house that they had been using, or Malcolm's dining room where they had been constantly interrupted by the demands of his Mum. In view of what they now suspected was a direct threat to Harry's life, there was also a twenty four hour guard posted outside the house which the now co - operating Erin had organised. Having cleared Harry's desk and set up Tariq's computer, Tariq explained his theory to Malcolm. He had no idea if Tariq was right but without any other leads to work with, they needed to run with it and try and make that connection. Malcolm had every confidence in Tariq's ability and as he elaborated further, Malcolm's interest peaked further.

'We need to go back to the beginning, but this time we assume that Ruth is the crucial link, otherwise what was the point in getting her exiled?' Tariq suggested. 'Maybe she knows something that she isn't aware of, something maybe that she had been working on when she was on the grid, that had she realised at the time would have brought this person down. Whoever this is, must have realised that once Ruth was relocated to the Home Office that she'd have access to information that she previously hadn't had, which if the penny had dropped she'd have told Harry. Having Jim Coaver shot and Harry extradited took that chance away.'

Two birds with one stone had been a master stroke. Getting rid of Harry for one of the many reasons that Tariq had suggested made sense, but finding where Ruth had been sent and getting her back was virtually impossible until they found their culprit and that was also vitally important, for Harry more than any of them, they both knew that.

'Harry and Ruth,' said Malcolm, raising his mug of tea.

'Harry and Ruth,' Tariq echoed.

In order that they could involve Malcolm, meetings like this had always been held at the end of a long working day, whereas what Callum now needed was for Malcolm to be officially reinstated. He also needed access to all the files that Ruth had worked on both at Thames House and at the Home Office and in order to do that see those, he needed to speak to Erin and ask her to clear it with the Home Secretary.

'I'll wait to hear from you then,' Malcolm told them, 'I'll just go and say goodnight to Harry and Catherine and then I'll be off.'

* * *

As much as Harry might have wanted to, he knew that he was still far too weak to go back onto the grid or get involved in whatever was happening upstairs in his office. Besides which he was fully aware that he would have been more of a hindrance than a help in his current state of mind, consumed with questions about Ruth, to which he had no answers. He'd never confided in anyone about his feelings and what until the other night had been their unfulfilled relationship. She'd written to Catherine as well, a letter which he'd also read, so maybe this was the time to be more open with his daughter as Ruth had suggested. She was out there somewhere lost and alone, she loved him and he was buggered if he was going to do as she'd told him and make an alternative life for himself, he needed to pull himself together and help them find her. Not only that, when he discovered who was behind all this, he'd ensure that the CIA and his friend Bob would take over where they'd off left with him.

His train of thought was interrupted when Malcolm's head popped round the door.

'I'll be off now if you don't need me for anything else?' he asked, pleased to see that two plates had been used which meant that finally Harry had eaten something.

'We'll be fine, see you sometime tomorrow,' from Catherine, had Malcolm explaining that if Callum got his way then both he and Tariq would be working in Harry's office full time and that Callum would be down in a moment to explain why.

'Before you go, you'd better read this,' Harry told him, handing over the letter and indicating the PS, so that Malcolm could read Ruth's message.

'I will,' said Malcolm smiling and bidding them goodnight. It was close to eleven and he needed to get home. It was when the last broadcast of the shipping forecast was aired and the one that he always listened to. When he and Ruth had worked together over the years, they'd found a way to relax by quizzing each other. Her about her love of classical music and him about his obsession with the shipping forecast and his quest for knowledge about the coastline around the British Isles, most of which he'd never seen but planned to rectify in his retirement. Well that wasn't going to happen, at least not in the short term.

* * *

Ruth had slept fitfully, struggling to eradicate jingle bell rock that had been going round and round in her head. As a result, she felt and assumed that she looked awful and nothing like the newly recruited music teacher that was expected to arrive for work at 8.30 that morning. She could hardly turn up wearing the clothes that she'd been wearing on a daily basis so what should she wear? She should have gone shopping. It was a bitterly cold morning so looking remarkably like the Ruth Evershed of old, dressed in one of her long dark skirts, her red top and long boots, all of which would have had Harry's heart rate soaring had he seen her, she climbed into her small car, drove up the hill and parked outside the school.

'Come on Ruth you can do this,' she told herself, remembering her resolution not to have any preconceived ideas, even about the excitable Robert. It felt like stepping back in time to her first day on the grid when she'd spilled her files across the meeting room table and Harry had made some ridiculous joke about her being the analyst. This felt no less daunting, as with a deep breath she pushed open the door and walked down the short corridor in the direction of the noise. She found herself in a bright and colourful classroom filled with what she calculated were perhaps twenty children of varying ages, some of which looked very young.

'Welcome Susan,' said Michael, appearing from behind some bookshelves and rushing over to greet her, telling the children to gather round while he introduced them to their new teacher.

A sea of bright and mischievous faces responded with a 'good morning miss,' which had Ruth finally conceding that this wasn't some dreadful dream it was actually real, as one by one they reeled off their names, none of which she imagined she'd ever remember.

'I must rush, I'll leave the children to tell you what they've been practicing with Mrs Macdonald,' saw Michael departing and Ruth wanting to follow him as small eager hands flew into the air. Her next decision proved to be a good one as she grabbed herself a chair and suggested to the children that they sat in a semi - circle in front of her so that she could get to know them better and then they could tell her what they'd been practicing for the concert.

'The little ones always sing first miss because they get tired,' an older boy who Ruth estimated to be about ten and declared himself to be James told her, at which point several hands shot up again indicating that they were the little ones, not that Ruth had any reason to doubt it.

'I'm the littlest, I'm five,' said the proud owner of a voice announcing himself to be Rory. 'I have to stand in the front so my Mummy and Daddy can see me,' had Ruth wanting to tell him that she thought he was lovely, but instead saying that she understood and that she'd make sure that he did.

The obviously confident James was in full flow, explaining to Ruth that 'Away in a Manger' was always the half way point in the concert which was when the older children joined in, only to be interrupted by two other children emerging from a cupboard proudly brandishing a manger and a doll whose head had come off.

'I'm Sally,' the newcomer with the headless doll told Ruth, going on to explain that the cupboard was where the scenery and the dressing - up clothes were kept.

Trying not to laugh as the baby Jesus's head was passed like a parcel, Ruth decided it was time she gained some sort of control before what remained of the doll was pulled limb from limb, and that the best way to do that was to put them through their paces and to hear what they were capable of.

'Right what I want now is to hear you sing,' she told them in what she hoped was an 'I'm in charge voice', heading towards the piano that stood in the corner of the room and praying that unlike the one that lived in the church that it was tuned. It was years since she'd played, she knew that she'd be rusty, but music came as easy to her as breathing and she could play with or without music. The first thing that came to hand in a book that had seen better days was 'Once in Royal David's City, as for the next few minutes as the children sang, Ruth was transported back to her childhood days at Primary School, when she'd so often had to sing the opening solo. She'd always loved Christmas and especially the carols, so when twenty little voices all eager to make an impression rose to fill the tiny classroom with a sound that evoked so many memories, for the first time in weeks she found herself at peace.

'That was very good,' she told their expectant faces as they finished the last verse of 'While Shepherd's Watched' and James piped up again, telling her that when they'd sung that last year that the little ones had been dressed as sheep.

'Yes Robert?' Ruth asked the supposedly excitable child who had so far been quiet.

'When the Christmas tree arrives, you will you help us decorate it won't you miss?' stopped Ruth mid thought and caused her to take a deep breath. Christmas Trees screamed Harry in Ruth's mind and his only indulgence to normality during the festive season. In recent years he'd softened and had finally allowed them to bring one onto the grid. It had meant that they'd all stayed late after work encouraged by the fact that he'd also brought in a few bottles of wine and some mince pies, and until twelve months ago they'd ridiculously pretended to avoid each other when it was obvious to everyone how they felt. Last year had been different and whilst Tariq had been telling one of his ridiculous jokes she'd escaped to the roof terrace and Harry had followed her. Neither of them had planned for it to happen or maybe on reflection Harry had, but it was Christmas and it was inevitable. Without her realising that he was going to do it, he'd kissed her and with that one kiss her life had changed for ever. Was he there now, was he thinking about her? She had to believe that he was otherwise none of this was worth it.

'I think perhaps you should show me what's in the clothes basket,' she told them as she tried to dispel her thoughts of Harry and refocus on the job in hand. Michael's talk of this being a one day a week job was a ruse to get her there and with under three weeks to go before the concert, then there had to be a good deal more practises. If she was going to stand in front of an audience which would consist of the entire village most of whom she had never met, then she was going to make dam sure that this was the best concert ever and not the repetitive one that they'd apparently endured year after year. She had a purpose and by lunchtime when she was sitting at the head of the table with the babies in her class eating what she decided was a far better school dinner than those to which she had been subjected, she also had a plan. This year when they performed the nativity it would be with a difference. She'd have to talk to Rose and probably Michael as well to seek his approval, but rather than hold it at the school, it would be so much more realistic if they could hold it in what would probably be a packed church.

When the school bell rang at three, the stampede to find their coats and hats before heading out in the playground to be collected by their waiting parents, had the usually quiet Ruth shouting at them to walk. She had survived her first day and as she drove back down the hill to her cottage, she admitted to herself that she'd enjoyed it.

The heating was on low so her first job was to light the fire, after which she headed upstairs to change into her more comfortable clothes. It was 4pm, when had she even got home from work that early, the answer was never. She had another busy day ahead of her tomorrow but before that she an evening of planning ahead of her and she was looking forward to it.


	7. Chapter 7

Ruth might have been found out of her comfort zone, but if nothing else she was an organiser. On what was a bitterly cold morning when the children's tiny hands were being blown on to get warm and frozen feet stamped, she took advantage of the situation and gathered her flock around the piano.

She'd spent the previous evening planning what would in essence be the nativity but with the audience participating in a sing song as the finale. She was worried that it wasn't going to be very original, but with so little time to organise it, it was all she had. She still hadn't found a volunteer to play Santa Clause.

'Come on sing up,' she told them as they went into the second verse of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.

They were a bright bunch made up of two classes which didn't make it easy, but they were were warming to the fact that normal lessons had been abandoned in the run up to the concert.

'It's going to be really exciting,' she told her audience, going on to explain that they'd be walking down the aisle, just as the choir did before the Sunday service, but that they'd be wearing their costumes, which caused a murmur of expectation and a further explanation from Ruth as to what part each of them would be playing. Ignoring previous castings which seemed very samey, she'd gone on her instinct and what she'd seen so far, so crossing her fingers she handed out the short scripts.

Having grouped together the shepherds and their sheep, assorted angels, the three wise men and then finally the first time Mary and Joseph, she turned to a disappointed James.

'I'd like you to be the narrator,' she told him, explaining what that involved and that it was a very important role.

By the time it reached mid- morning the room was a hive of activity, the children certainly weren't bored and none of them wanted a break from what they were doing. The older ones she'd split into two groups, one of which was dusting off the scenery and props whilst the other was sorting out the costumes that needed washing or repairing.

Keeping a watchful eye, Ruth was putting the four sheep and the four youngest angels through their paces, practising the first verse of Away in a Manger.

'Let's try that again and then we'll have a rest and something to drink,' she told the group in general but Maisie in particular, who now that her doll had been chosen to replace the headless Baby Jesus, supposed that her job was over and was fiddling with her plaits, and Rory who wasn't concentrating but was keeping an eye on what was happening to his sheep costume.

The next step and before the dress rehearsal took place they needed to practice in the church, which was something that she needed to discuss with Michael. Other than on Sundays when the heating such as it was came on, the church was chilly and it wasn't a good place for young children to spend hours at a time. Her second request was motivated by her own personal need and ability to cope. The mere thought of seeing a Christmas tree in the classroom every day was dragging her down, so she was going to suggest to Michael that it should be given pride of place in the church beside the pulpit.

* * *

Finding teachers who were prepared to move from more lucrative jobs on the mainland had proved a never ending problem and even more so the ability to keep them. In the wings and unseen by Ruth or the children, Rose who had taken a break from her kitchen duties had popped over to see how things were going. Robert her eldest and usually boisterous son was reading lines, totally absorbed in what he was doing and integrating with a group of the older children. If what she'd overheard was correct, he was playing Joseph. She was impressed.

Who was this extraordinary woman that had stumbled into their village and within less than a week of teaching, had succeeded in taming what up to now had been an unruly group of children?

Michael who was much more used to reading people then she was, had noticed that aside from her obvious ability to form a bond with the children, there was an inner sadness to Susan, that when her guard was down she couldn't succeed in hiding. She was far too nice a person to be alone, so perhaps her story that she'd never had had a partner or wanted children wasn't strictly true. Whatever the reason it was a crying shame and it made Rose realise how lucky she was to be part of a loving family even though they drove her crazy at times. Could Susan be persuaded to stay or would she eventually want leave the island? Rose hoped not, because dear old Mrs. Macdonald who Michael had been to visit yesterday was fading fast and certainly wasn't going to be coming back.

 _Four days and counting, until the night of the concert._

Michael bustled into the room frozen to the bone, telling them that he had it on good authority from Harris the butcher that it was going to be the coldest winter in living memory.

'That's nice dear,' said Rose, making Ruth inwardly smile, who at the end of the fourth day of nothing but rehearsing, had been enjoying one of Rose's mince pies with a cup of tea in their kitchen.

He had no hesitation in saying yes, when Ruth suggested that rather than hold the concert at the school, she wanted to hold it in the church and please could he find some way to encourage as many people as possible to attend. Ron the school caretaker had told her that for years it had been a repeat of the previous year's performance and apart from the proud parents for whom it was the highlight of the school year, the audience numbers had steadily dwindled. Ruth's plan was imaginative and having had so little time to put it together, Rose wanted them to help her in any way that they could. Involving the entire congregation so that everyone played a part in the story, surely ensured that they'd get bums on seats and hopefully a full house to do it justice.

'Your wish is my command,' Michael said teasing her as he always did. 'On one condition though, you have to promise to join us for Christmas Eve for the party.'

* * *

Maybe thought Ruth as she thanked them again, before retrieving her coat from the pile in the corner and heading back out into the cold for the short drive home. It was here, from the moment that she opened her door that the fantasy that she was happy and making progress died. Her days she could cope with, it was the long evenings and the sometimes sleepless nights when she longed to be with Harry, that life got tough again. It was Christmas for goodness sake when people were supposed to be with the people that they loved, and what did she have to look forward too? A good book, a bottle of wine and some mindless television. She'd always longed for the school holidays when she'd been a child and now she dreaded the one that was fast approaching, how ironic was that. She'd lost count of the times that she'd picked up her phone to dial an oh so familiar number, knowing that within seconds it would be either Harry or Catherine that would pick it up and she would be able to hear his voice and be able to tell him how much she was missing him.

What had Michael said about the weather? Storms and freezing temperatures over the Christmas period, oh joy. She'd so far managed to spend at least half an hour each evening wrapped in a blanket and cuddling a cup of tea on the porch that ran the full length at the back of the house, where you could hear if not see the sea. On a starlit night there was nowhere a better place to be and it was here in her solitude that she felt closest to Harry.

Everyone was being so kind so she could hardly refuse to go to the party could she? In an effort to raise her spirits, she poured herself a glass of wine, climbed the stairs and ran herself a bath. Cleaner, certainly warmer and back in her comfortable clothes she ate the omelette that she'd prepared and then settled down on her sofa to think about the concert and pencil down the sequence of carols. Tomorrow she wanted to take the children to the church and walk them through the performance. Play it down she told herself, don't make too much of it, the only thing that matters is that the children enjoyed it.

* * *

'That'll be your old pal Bob,' Callum told Harry, when the doorbell rang just as he was about to go back to the grid. Malcolm and Tariq were already ensconced in Harry's office and Harry, who had been persuaded with the combined effort of Callum and Catherine that they really needed his help, was working his way through what was a mountain of closed files that Beth had delivered the previous evening. There was each and every one that he and Ruth had worked on together and Harry had signed off, although in most cases with only a cursory glance at Ruth's note that said sign here. Now reading them in depth they made for interesting reading and for Harry, an increased admiration as to how astute Ruth had been in her efforts to define the salient points. Highlights and circles had left him with little or no work to do other than to sign, whereas now, in what was a do or die situation with Ruth missing, he was reading every word.

'Glad to see you looking better,' said Bob, as Catherine who was thrilled that her dad seemed more energised and was getting used to playing hostess to half of the grid, delivered two cups of coffee as Bob joined Harry at his dining room table.

'I've been led to believe that I owe you a debt of gratitude and congratulations by the way, a little birdie told me that you got married,' Harry told his guest.

'I sure did and my flight home's first thing tomorrow, but I'm free today and you look as though you could do with some help,' Bob told him, spotting the as yet unread Albany file, knowing full well that this was the op that had caused Harry to be suspended because he'd given away a state secret in order to save Ruth's life.

'You've got a good team, they will find her,' broke what had now been half an hour of silence during which time they'd continued reading and Bob had fully appreciated how important Ruth had been to Harry, professionally as well as personally. The fact that Harry was in love with Ruth was well known throughout the security services and Bob had been around in the two dark years when Ruth had been exiled. It went without saying that having it happen again must be devastating. They were both of an age when you got to believe that it was now or never and he'd go crazy if he lost Helen.

Harry didn't respond, studiously studying the file that lay in front of him, but Bob wasn't fooled or daunted. Callum had asked him to call and try and drag Harry back from what they all feared was a precipice and he was determined to do it.

'I know that we haven't always seen eye to eye Harry,' he said, stating the blindingly obvious, 'but I am genuinely sorry that Ruth's missing, what's she like?'

'I take it you don't mean professionally?' was said with a hint of sarcasm, before Harry dragged himself to his feet and picked up a book that stood on a side table, handing Bob a photograph that he had hidden just inside the cover.

'Not your usual sort,' had Harry balling up his fists, but he thought better of it. Bob had come here as a friend and despite how he was feeling he didn't need to be churlish.

'In a word she's perfect,' was said so quietly that Bob barely heard it, as Harry took the photograph back and after gazing at it for a few seconds took a deep breath and stood it on his mantelpiece.

'I have another question,' Bob told him an hour later, when he'd finished picking apart the Albany file and they were eating the sandwiches that Catherine had delivered. 'What the hell happened to the money that the Chinese gave to Lucas?'

'He bought a fake bomb which succeeded in getting me onto the roof before he jumped, it's all in the file,' had Bob asking Harry to humour him.

'Lucas would have been given thousands by the Chinese, maybe as much as a million and far more then was needed to buy a bomb, fake or otherwise, am I right? He had an exit plan with Miya and yet none of the money was found on his body, so where did it go because it certainly isn't documented?'

If the money had gone missing as Bob was suggesting, then it had to have happened between Thames House and the Home Office. Lucas's death and his subsequent two month suspension had been sufficient to distract his staff, especially Ruth who had been side lined almost instantly by Erin. She'd have had no involvement or so seen the report that he'd written about her, during the long two months that they'd been separated.

Once she'd re located to the Home Office her curiosity would have got the better of her and she'd have wanted to read it. She was like a dog with a bone was his Ruth, it was in her nature. Ultimately she'd have stumbled upon the truth and then what would she have done? She'd have told the only person that she could truly trust. She'd have told him.

Suddenly everything was starting to make sense.

'I'm sorry but I need to make some enquiries,' he told Bob, knowing full well that funds of that magnitude would have been deemed to be the property of Her Majesty's Government and as such would have been registered at the Home Office. He'd read through what he'd been led to believe had been Ruth's workload but it had revealed nothing. Perhaps if he talked to Margo he'd get some answers? He'd get Callum to ring her.

'Let me know when you find that Ruth of yours and get yourself married, I can recommend it,' Bob told a wistful looking Harry as he called cheerio to Catherine and shook his friend's hand.

* * *

Margo liked Harry, but at the same time she was slightly daunted by the fact that he had a knighthood and what she felt was a presence. That he and Ruth were attracted to each other was obvious, but whether their relationship had moved beyond that she didn't know. Ruth was an extremely private person and Margo respected that and didn't listen to the tittle tattle that was rife in political circles. If everything you heard was true, then there'd never be time to get any work done. Ruth was missing and according to her knew boss was probably dead and she should forget her, but she couldn't. So when Callum called and asked if she'd be prepared to meet Harry, she'd agreed.

With Beth driving to Ruth's house, Harry was outdoors for the first time in weeks. Callum had suggested that if anyone was watching Harry, then it would be the last place that they'd expect him to go and it also offered anonymity for Margo. Beth had done her best to remove all traces of Ruth, but it was impossible to change the heart of a building and from the moment that Harry walked through the door, his heartrate increased. The pictures on the walls, the mishmash of furnishings and the homeliness were all so achingly familiar, that his resolve to rise above it and cope crumbled, as Beth witnessed him he rubbing his fingers across his forehead, in an all too familiar gesture.

'I don't know if this helps?' Margo asked Beth, who having seen Harry's distress had taken over, handing her a USB that she'd managed to remove from Ruth's desk before her new boss had been catapulted in.

* * *

'He'll be away until the New Year, he and Mrs Dolby are having a Christmas Holiday in the sun,' the DG's personal secretary told Erin, when she rang for an appointment, sending the meeting room into a frenzy of activity and the CIA sharpening their knives.

'Instigate an all ports warning and check CCTV at the tunnel and the airports,' had Dimitri and Beth racing back to their desks and Callum ringing Harry.

'Assuming that you don't want to come back to Thames House, Erin says that you can hang onto Tariq for a bit,' Callum told him, 'but if Malcolm wants to stay, he'll have to do it for love not money from now on,' had Harry muttering something that sounded remarkably like sod Erin, she's not the boss yet, which Callum chose to ignore. 'Tell Catherine that I'll try to get home early enough for dinner, I want to be involved in the search for Ruth,' made Harry wish that his probable son in law would end up sitting in his chair, because he was a much more sensitive people person than Erin Watts would ever be.

Harry's office was small and functional and nothing more, whereas his sitting room was warm, comfortable and much more conducive to creating the right atmosphere in which to work when there were three of you needing to be together. Tariq and Catherine had juggled with the furniture and the kitchen table had been carried through to enable Harry, Malcolm and Tariq to set up their computers. They had one aim and that was to find Ruth. Safe in the knowledge that Mrs Dolby, with or without her knowledge that her husband was a criminal and Europe's most wanted, had gone with him, meant that Ruth was no longer in danger or so that had to believe.

She hadn't taken her passport, that was safely tucked in Harry's safe, although she'd have been sent packing with a new name and that presented a further problem in that she could be anywhere in Europe or indeed the world. They'd trawled through Dolby's personal file starting from the moment that he'd joined the service and as they did so it became more and more evident that his career had mirrored Harrys, right up until the time that Harry had received his knighthood and Dolby who by then was DG, had been ignored. He and Mrs Dolby lived in what only could be described as 'a pile' in Surrey and a team which included Dimitri and Beth, had been sent there to tear the place apart.

True to his word, Callum arrived home at seven to find Catherine in the kitchen putting the finishing touches to their dinner.

'How's you dad?' he asked her, hopeful that now they had managed to solve one problem that Harry might be more relaxed.

'Like a coiled spring,' was Catherine's apt description, as Harry who wasn't known for his patience under any circumstances could be heard reiterating that didn't they know it was only three days until Christmas Eve. When she'd popped in to tell them that dinner would soon be ready he'd been in full flow, telling them that wherever Ruth was that they bloody well needed to find her, because she wasn't going to be spending Christmas alone, even if it meant he had to fly half way around the world to be with her.

Harry shouting was music to the ears as far as Malcolm and Tariq were concerned, it meant that he was back to being the grid Harry, that had been buried for far too long. He may not have regained much of the weight that he'd lost but that wasn't important, his mental state was what had concerned them. If he was telling them that he was prepared to fly anywhere in the world to be with Ruth at Christmas, then they'd move heaven and earth to find her, with or without pay.


	8. Chapter 8

The sun, the sand and sea of Cyprus it certainly wasn't, as on the day before the performance, Ruth woke to minus zero temperatures and the first dusting of snow. Adding to her misery, she'd overslept. With no time for breakfast, she threw on her warmest clothes and drove as fast as the icy hill would allow her to the church. Michael had worked his magic and in addition to the children who were being occupied by Rose, a small group of parents were already hard at work. The scenery was being assembled and refreshments sufficient to feed an army and what looked like an urn to make hot drinks, was being carried in through the side door of the toasty and warm church.

'It's here, it's here miss,' an excited Rory squealed, grabbing her hand and dragging her down the aisle to where Christopher and a girl that Ruth didn't recognise, had been added to the workforce and were setting up the tree.

'I'm so sorry I'm late, how on earth did you manage to organise this?' an embarrassed Ruth asked Rose, only to be rewarded with one of Rose's smiles and to be reminded that she was married to a vicar and that if he couldn't work miracles then who could.

Now relieved of the mountain of tasks that in her imagination would have seen her working late into the evening, she gratefully accepted the cup of tea that someone had given her and ushered the children into two rows of pews.

'The church choir will be standing over there,' she told them, pointing to a space on the opposite side to the tree. Exactly whose parents were transforming the area in front of the altar into a make believe Bethlehem she had no idea, but the hills in the background looked remarkably realistic, as did the inn and the stable that were awaiting Mary and Joseph.

It felt strange being in a church and surrounded by happy faces when her own life was in such a mess, but if her time with Nico had taught her anything it was that children needed to take priority and feel involved in what was happening around them. If that meant giving them centre stage from time to time then so be it and what better time to do it than at Christmas. This was their concert not hers.

'Now I need to get you all to Bethlehem, how are we going to do that?' She asked them, dragging herself back to the here and now and regaining their attention. Her question was met by a sea of blank faces, despite the fact that they'd already discussed it the previous day, so she tried another tack and asked them if they knew the story about Noah and his animals?

'Two by two,' was the chorus, as Ruth went on to remind them that she wanted the shepherds and their sheep to walk down the aisle first, followed by the angels, the wise men and Mary and Joseph with their donkey.

'Remember, James and I will be standing at the front to meet you and then once you're all in your places the story can begin.'

Rose had told her that most of the children especially the little ones had never been to church, so with the exception of Rory and Maisie who Ruth wanted to walk together to add to the atmosphere, she'd paired them up so that each small child had an older one to walk with.

'I'm not holding her hand she's a girl,' from Ollie, had Lucy bursting into tears, as Ruth who refrained from saying what was on the tip of her tongue, explained to the remainder of the class who in effect were extras but she'd cast as villagers, that in this case he was playing a father and that Lucy was one of his children.

'Look at Mary and Joseph,' she told them pointing to Robert, who obligingly put his arm around Sally's shoulder. 'It's only pretend.' The fact that Rose had told her that Robert thought that Sally was the most beautiful girl in the world and that he was going to marry her, was irrelevant. Besides which as far as Ruth knew, he hadn't asked her yet.

* * *

At mid – morning Ruth called a halt, at which point everyone stopped for a break. Sitting in the church drinking hot chocolate with a biscuit on a school day was going down like a house on fire with the children, so with a cup of tea in her hand, Ruth did the rounds and thanked her helpers. Equilibrium had been restored and they were ready for the first proper rehearsal.

With James standing in front of the yet to be decorated tree, Ruth beckoned encouraging to Rory and Maisie who were walking towards her. Was it so wrong for her to have set these two apart from the others in her heart, maybe it was, but they were adorable. Had she and Harry ever had the chance to have children she would have loved them to look like these two little souls, with their lives still ahead of them and untouched by the reality of the real world. A huge wave of sadness enveloped her and she could feel the tears pricking the back of her eyes.

To one side, the ever vigilant Rose stood watching, seeing for the first time what Michael had meant. Susan was battling with something truly profound and still managing to control it. Nobody should have to cope with a loss on their own and this was exactly what this was, Rose was certain of it. In a short space of time Susan had become her friend and a huge asset to the village and she felt it her heart, to help her in any way that she could.

Christopher and Abby proved to be very capable allies. So at the end of the day when the still willing parents were either collecting up what was left of the food or sorting out the costumes in readiness for the following day's dress rehearsal, Rose suggested to Ruth that enough was enough and that someone else should take charge of dressing the tree.

Armed with two cups of tea and the inevitable mince pies, Ruth found herself being dragged to a quiet corner of the church and being told to do as she was told. The day had gone so well, far better than she had hoped, but she was dog tired through a lack of sleep, the concert preparation that she'd thrown her heart into, but most of all by keeping the secret that she wasn't who she was claiming to be. She was Ruth Evershed and she was in love with a man that could be on the moon, such was her desolation.

'Tell me,' Rose told her, fully aware that the dam was about to break.

'He's called Harry,' was all that Ruth managed, before her sobs were drowned out by the sound of the children's laughter.

An hour later when they were preparing dinner in Rose's kitchen that had rapidly become Ruth's second home, the two younger children had been despatched to watch television, Robert was in his bedroom practising his lines and Michael had discreetly headed to his study to write his sermon, Rose asked again.

Ruth knew that she needed to talk to someone, but what to say? She'd done it in Cyprus and where had that got her, she needed to be honest this time, even if it had to be sparing.

'What I told you before is true, I've never had a husband or child,' she told Rose, 'but there is someone.'

'Called Harry,' said Rose in such a gentle voice that Ruth opened up and told her as much as she knew was permissible and that there was only the merest chance that she and Harry would be re united.

'Spend Christmas with us, the children would love it and so would we,' was a generous offer that Ruth said she'd think about, but knew she'd never accept.

* * *

As Ruth had been waking up, Tariq and Malcolm had arrived to find themselves with an unexpected Harry free day, with Catherine announcing to her dad that she needed him to go shopping with her. In truth, she'd watched her him getting more and more wound up as the previous evening had gone on and had decided that a short walk to get some much needed fresh air into his lungs and then maybe a meal somewhere might do him good. He was still physically fragile but mollycoddling in front of his colleagues was out of the question, so she'd have to use subtlety to get him to wrap up warm, by getting Malcolm to mention how cold it was.

Telling Malcolm and Tariq that they could help themselves to anything that they fancied for lunch and that Callum had told her that he didn't expect to be back until late as the full scale search for Dolby and possibly an accomplice would keep him fully occupied, she linked her arm through Harry's and ushered him out to their waiting taxi.

Harry found himself in a small restaurant, well away from the Thames and any of the familiar haunts that he and Ruth frequented. He suspected that Catherine had done her research and that Malcolm had played his part. He knew full well that Catherine was on a _get dad out of the way mission_ and it certainly did feel better to be away from the house. What he hadn't bargained for but started as soon as they'd ordered, was a moderate roasting from his determined daughter.

'I'd never had put you down as a quitter,' was the opening salvo, as Catherine went on to suggest that if Malcolm and Tariq were half as good as Callum had told her, then there was every chance that he'd be spending Christmas or at worst New Year with Ruth. 'Once we've finished our lunch I intend taking you shopping, your clothes are hanging off you,' had Harry conceding that having lost so much weight he was looking far from his best and that if he was going to be seeing Ruth again, then Catherine was right, he did need to go shopping, no matter how much he hated the idea.

In what was a less pressured atmosphere than the one at home, Harry started to relax and by the time that they were eating their main course, Catherine had moved the conversation on to Ruth and where he thought she might be? Of two things Harry was certain, Ruth wouldn't have returned to Cyprus or gone anywhere in Eastern Europe. That would have been far too dangerous with her background. What none of them had so far considered was that her destination had been pre destined, and that had they been able to find Dolby, Harry would have been on the next flight to Prestwick.

His previous thought that she could be anywhere in the world was blown apart as Catherine continued to prod and Harry remembered that Ruth had recently discovered that she was claustrophobic. Wherever she was in the world, she couldn't have flown long haul.

'Leave it to the experts they will find her,' had Harry telling her that it was just one more thing on the long list that he and Ruth had in common. They were both hopeless when it came to technology, but it wasn't the reason that they'd spent hours over the years talking to each other on the phone, that was by choice.

'Come on Dad, Catherine told her now tired father, as they exited the shop loaded with parcels that kitted him out for what would be a journey to somewhere in Europe.

* * *

Having received Harry's phone call telling them that they could eliminate far flung climes and that they should concentrate on Western Europe, Tariq had called up all the footage and correspondence that he had documented. It had been a time consuming exercise that had proved fruitless the first time that they'd looked, after they'd finally been given access to passenger manifests on the day that Ruth had disappeared. Now though they were able to narrow it down to European flights, calling up the long list of females approximately the same age as Ruth, who had flown out of both Heathrow and Gatwick.

By the time that Harry and Ruth got home, they were no further forward and extremely frustrated, not only that they hadn't eaten. They'd been on the go since just after nine and now at four in the afternoon, they knew that they needed to take a break. Harry had been persuaded to take himself upstairs for a lie down, with the promise that if they found anything that they'd wake him. An also tired and emotional Catherine who had arrived home full of hope, only to have it dashed, had served up pizzas with a salad and had joined them in the kitchen. The calendar that was hanging on Harry's kitchen wall which he'd been crossing off daily, hung like a spectre. Tomorrow would be December 23rd.

'You do know that there will be a reduced number of flights over Christmas?' wasn't a very helpful remark from Tariq, but they knew he was right and dreaded the effect that not finding Ruth would have on the now expectant Harry.

In the world that all except Catherine moved in, Tariq was the closest to Ruth when it came to inspiration. Harry had once jokingly called him a boy wonder, when in the meeting room he'd once described something that only Ruth could understand. He analysed, he thought deeply and suddenly in what had now become a solemn atmosphere, he punched his fist in the air. Ruth had left in the middle of the night when it was only long haul flights that would have taken off and they now knew that she wouldn't have been on one of those. She hadn't flown anywhere, she'd driven. The fact that her car was still here was brilliant in its cunning and had fooled them. Dolby would have known that their first thought would have been that she'd gone on a one person mission to save Harry and when they found out that she hadn't, they'd have wasted days checking unnecessary flights in an effort to discover where she was. He'd provided her with another car. Ruth was still in this country, he'd stake his reputation on it.

'No don't get your dad yet,' Malcolm told Catherine, 'we need time to think.'

With any though of finishing dinner and the washing up abandoned, the three of them were back in the dining room with a large scale map of the British Isles pulled up on Tariq's computer. As large as it was it wasn't detailed enough, so Malcolm headed out to his car and brought in a map that he had bought months ago when he'd first planned his holiday.

They quickly eliminated anywhere in the South of England. Ruth would have needed to get as far away from London as possible. Was it conceivable that she'd bought the cottage in Suffolk that Malcolm knew that she had considered? A quick look on the estate agent's website confirmed that it was still on the market, but it also alerted them to the fact that there were dozens of small cottages that could be both bought or rented. Had Ruth rented a cottage somewhere and if so where the hell was it? There were thousands of them available, it was a hopeless task.

'We need to think latterly,' Malcolm told Tariq, 'and re visit the facts that we already have.'

Ruth had been forced to leave by Dolby or someone close to him. She'd done it, convinced that by doing so that she'd save Harry and had assumed that her disappearance would need to be a permanent one. She'd said so in the three letters that she'd written to Harry to Catherine and to Beth. Bearing in mind that she'd left in the middle of the night and they'd checked with taxi companies, she had to have left under her own steam and by car. Why had she felt compelled to leave in the middle of the night and not first thing in the morning after Beth had gone to work, was the question to which they didn't have an answer?

'Perhaps she had a deadline to meet that made her leave that early, because Beth told me that it was unlike Ruth to leave her room in such a state,' chipped in Catherine, who had been trying to put herself in Ruth's position.

Deadlines meant airports or ferries, but they'd already checked those when they'd assumed she'd left for the continent.

'Oh my God, you clever girl,' said Malcolm, meaning Ruth and not Catherine, asking her to wake Harry, because he needed to re - read Ruth's letter.

'Switch your computer back on and google The Shipping Forecast, he told a bemused Tariq who'd never heard of it, as Harry came flying back down the stairs.

There were thirteen regional names, but only some of them related to Islands and more specifically where ferries would have left on the day in question. It was a case of elimination and as they called in favours that enabled them to have access to surveillance around the coast, it was a further two hours before they had confirmation from the port authority on the Isle of Skye, that Susan Barnes had boarded a ferry to Harris and Lewis.

* * *

As Catherine helped a now frantic Harry pack, Tariq was booking him a flight to Prestwick with a connecting flight to Stornoway the following afternoon. He hadn't told Harry that the connecting flight was the last one before Christmas and that bad weather was setting in. It was clear from the way he was behaving that he'd swim the divide if necessary. He had a hire car booked in Stornoway. A four by four had been advised.

Sitting having a coffee with her dad at Heathrow airport, with an hour to go before boarding, Catherine was consumed by varying emotions. He looked so bloody exhausted and she knew he was pushing himself way beyond what he should be doing, bearing in mind what had so recently happened. Callum who had raced home when she'd phoned him had gone to buy a newspaper to give them some time alone and for that she was grateful. Tariq had told them about the possibility that his connecting flight might be cancelled, but they'd made a unanimous decision not to compound his stress about something that please God wouldn't happen.

'Would passengers for the 9pm flight to Prestwick, please go to gate number twenty seven where we're now ready to board,' said a voice, as father and daughter embraced before he disappeared into the crowd to join his fellow passengers.

'I love you Dad, stay safe,' was lost on the wind.

The flight was a short one, so much more so than the last time that he'd been on a plane. His room had been booked at the last minute, in a motel adjacent to the airport. It offered clean and tidy rooms and a bar but little else. It had been well over a month since he'd touched alcohol and for a man that at one time hadn't been able to survive without a whisky, he didn't fancy one now. He stripped naked letting the mercifully hot water of the shower relax him before he made himself a coffee and climbed into bed.

As was always was the case, he picked up the book that he'd never been parted from, other than when he'd been incarcerated. It was a copy of Jane Eyre, the one that Ruth had been reading on the bus the night that he had sought her out during his suspension and she'd given it to him as a gift when he'd returned to work. She'd come into his office unannounced as she always did and just stood there watching him as he'd opened it. He'd made some stupid joke about him being her Mr Rochester which had seen her blushing, but she'd stood her ground as their eyes had locked. It was the moment that he'd acknowledged that he was in love with her, but was still uncertain as how she really felt about him. The book and her photo were his two most prize possessions and he'd take them with him to the grave, he was certain of that.

As he slid down beneath the covers, he could almost feel her, she was so close. His whole body was aching with the need of her and this time tomorrow he'd be with her. What had she been doing in the time that they been parted, how would she react to seeing him again, were questions to which he didn't have an answer. He knew he wouldn't sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Overtired after a day that had seen him pushing himself almost to the limit, Harry couldn't sleep. At one, he'd turned over for the umpteenth time on what was an unfamiliar mattress, at two he'd beaten the pillows to a pulp and at four he finally admitted defeat and climbed out of bed. Running on empty and consumed with thoughts of Ruth, he drew back the curtains and gazed far into the distance. Christ he was tired. He also knew that he looked dreadful and new clothes or not, he wouldn't be able to disguise the evidence of his extradition.

* * *

Ruth hadn't slept well either, battling with her inner self in a desperate attempt cope with the fact that Christmas was fast approaching and to put thoughts of Harry to one side. It was an indulgence that she couldn't allow, at least not until the end of the day. Had she known that he was almost within touching distance and worrying about something so ridiculous as to make it laughable, she'd have thrown caution to the wind and gone to find him. For the sake of the concert and of the children and her so far intact reputation, it was as well that she hadn't.

At seven, by which time Harry had showered, got dressed and was drinking his third cup of coffee of the morning, Ruth was already at the church waiting for the choir and the children to arrive. Providing the dress rehearsal went well, Rose had insisted that she and Ruth spend the afternoon in Stornoway, because she needed some help in choosing a new dress for the Christmas Eve party. That again Ruth thought, she was running out of excuses not to go.

'These are lovely, well done,' she told the older children, as she thumbed through a couple of the homemade programmes that they'd spent hours each evening designing.

'O little town of Bethlehem' will be sung by the Church Choir as the children walk down the aisle, it told the congregation, 'It Came upon the Midnight Clear', which just happened to be Ruth's favourite carol where the audience were invited to join in, followed by 'Away in a Manger' which would be sung by the children of the village school, and then finally 'Hark the Herald Angels Sing', were the musical contributions to the Nativity, after which the children invited the audience to join them in a singing some Christmas music.

Giggling and remarks that were neither appropriate in a church, or giving Ruth any chance of getting the rehearsal underway, ended up with the children being split into two gender groups to get into their costumes and the decision that they should take them home and arrive already dressed for the evening's performance.

With the parents who were members of the choir acting as their audience, Rory and Maisie walked hand in hand towards Bethlehem, he dressed as a lamb and she as an angel. By the time that the choir headed into the final verse with the descant ringing out, Ruth had just about succeeded in getting the children into their places.

James as the narrator caused Ruth's concerns to lessen, as with a clarity that belied his young age he started to speak. Wearing his school uniform which his proud Mum had pressed until there were military looking creases in his trousers, he stood tall and confident beside the tree, on the makeshift box that Ron had rigged up for him. As the star or to be precise a single disguised light bulb rose in the east, the Shepherds followed by the Wise Men presented their gifts to the new born baby and his proud parents. The sheep behaved themselves and the angels spread their newly tinselled wings. So far so good it seemed.

From Ruth's point of view it was the music that she had put her heart and soul into and as she assembled her flock in front of her around the manger, she crossed her fingers. She'd listened to each and every one of them singing alone over the past few days and she'd chosen Aidan to sing the opening verse as a solo. It had been a difficult decision she'd told those of them that were disappointed, but in reality it had been simple. He was already a member of the choir and had the purest treble voice that she'd heard in years.

'Right remember what I told you,' she whispered to her charges as they started to sing, 'keep your eyes on me right until the end.'

From the youngest to the eldest they held her gaze, throughout what was a flawless performance. Ruth breathed a sigh of relief. If it went as well later it would be the high point of the evening and she could hardly wish for more.

You can smile now,' she told them, when the serious side of the concert came to an end and the small audience dutifully applauded. It was fun time, and until the evening Ruth's job had been done. With what the vicar now knew would be a full house that would be encouraged to sing till the rafters rang, he took charge as they practised Rudolph the red nosed Reindeer, Jingle Bells and finally we wish you a Merry Christmas.

'That was excellent, well done everybody,' Michael told the chattering and adrenalin fuelled bunch, that were donning their coats and watching as the lights on the tree were being tested.

'Six o'clock, not a minute later,' was greeted by a 'yes Miss Barnes,' as the children disappeared. Five precious hours of quiet lay ahead of her and she intended to enjoy it.

* * *

Ruth had only once before visited Stornoway which was soon after she'd arrived. She'd been on the hunt for bookshops and to buy the warm jumpers and trousers that she now permanently lived in. Today though as Rose's guest she discovered that there was far more to it than she'd imagined, including several decent restaurants, one of which she and Rose were sitting in and enjoying their lunch. For Ruth who rarely went out and certainly hadn't been to a restaurant since 'the best night of her life ' as she remembered it, it felt ridiculously decadent, especially when Rose insisted that she needed a good meal inside her to fortify her for the evening and that the meal was on her.

Changing the subject, Rose veered away from talking about the upcoming concert and took Ruth by surprise.

'It isn't as easy as it seems being a vicar's wife,' she told her, going on to explain that people expected her to be able to wave a magic wand and solve everything. 'That should be Michael's job not mine, but with a Parish that spreads over so many miles, he's rarely at home and you'd be surprised how many people take that as a personal affront.'

Ruth still had no idea as to where this was leading, until Rose moved on to the real subject that she wanted to talk to Ruth about, maintaining stability at a school where teacher after teacher left and that they desperately wanted Ruth to stay on.

'You sing and you play the piano and teaching music to young children doesn't require you to be qualified,' she went on to explain, 'and during term time, they second teachers from the mainland to teach the other subjects, so please say you'll think about it?'

In a life that didn't involve Harry any more, Ruth had existed on a one day at a time basis and had never considered anything beyond Christmas. But Rose was persuasive and when she told her that there had been far too many times over the last few years that the school had nearly been forced to close and that the impact on small children travelling as far as Stornoway each day would be devastating, she started to think.

'We also need a school secretary and you're such a good organiser,' was something else that Rose had got in mind, as she piled on the pressure by telling Ruth how much the children loved her.

She wasn't the writer that she claimed to be, her Home Office salary would eventually disappear and her savings wouldn't last forever. She did need a job and she did enjoy working with the children, so she told Rose that she'd think about it and give her an answer in the New Year.

Buying a new dress for tonight's event and then something to wear the following evening at the party wasn't exclusive to Rose so it seemed, as Ruth found herself being bullied into sorting through an assortment of dresses that were at prices less than half she would have paid in London. She'd brought so little with her and up until now she'd given little thought as to what she was going to wear. Perhaps Rose did have a point so why not she thought, she'd be standing at the front with the entire congregation watching her and it had been ages since she'd bought anything new.

'Perfect,' her enthusiastic new best friend told her, as Ruth paid for a figure hugging red dress and a new pair of shoes, before being dragged into a hairdressers where Rose had pre - paid for two appointments.

Arriving home with just enough time to make a sandwich and a cup of tea before she jumped into the bath and then got dressed, Ruth conceded that she'd enjoyed her day with Rose, she felt better and that they should do it more often. Ignore the demons she told herself, she just needed to get through the evening.

* * *

Harry had inevitably arrived at the terminal hours earlier than he needed to. It was throughout the long and lonely nights when the doubts set in, but in the cold light of day he felt better. Breakfast first he told himself and then ring Catherine as he'd promised. Spotting what looked to be a reasonable place to eat that wasn't heaving with families and their children who were heading for warmer climes, he ordered himself a full English breakfast.

Catherine was right he'd never been a quitter. For better or worse he needed to see Ruth and to tell her that moving on for him meant spending the rest of their lives together. She'd also been right insisting that he bought himself some new clothes and grateful that in addition to his new black trousers and dark red sweater that he was wearing, she'd also persuaded him to buy a different winter coat, that in Catherine's words, didn't suggest that he was a member of the Mafia. It really was bloody freezing and he still didn't feel a hundred percent.

'I'm not going to discuss work other than to tell you that Dolby's enjoying a holiday with the cousins,' Callum who had answered the phone told him, 'you're on holiday remember and we don't expect to see you back any time soon.'

'I'm fine sweetheart and yes I am feeding myself properly,' he told his still concerned daughter, telling her that he had to go because his breakfast was just about to arrive, wondering if a plate that consisted of a fry up counted as properly. He was quite sure that Ruth would tell him that it didn't.

Once he'd finished his breakfast and read his paper the morning had dragged by. He'd passed the time between walking circuits of the concourse, drinking cups of coffee and as a consequence made several trips to the loo. With less than an hour to go before he was due to board, a voice over the loud speaker caused the background noise to evaporate and for Harry's heart to stop beating.

'Ladies and Gentlemen, please may I have your attention. We regret to inform you that with the onset of bad weather, some internal flights are being delayed or in some cases will be cancelled. Passengers are asked to go to the information area, to enquire if their flight is likely to be affected.'

As he dragged himself to his feet the room spun round in front of him and he was sure that he was going to be sick. Grappling into thin air for something to hold onto with his mind still whirring, he tried to gain his balance. Surely this couldn't be happening, not again, it was just so bloody unfair?

'Don't worry mate, they always say that,' said an encouraging voice in his ear as a pair of strong arms enveloped him, helping him to sit back down as a cup of tea was placed in his hand. 'The wife and I are frequent flyers out of here and unless you going skiing which I'm guessing you're not, then you'll get to where you're going.'

Harry opened his eyes to find himself sitting next to what in any other situation he would have described as 'the last person on earth' that he would have wanted to be rubbing his back. A woman, who had he been more up to date with real life and the younger generation in particular, with what he perceived to be a bolt through her nose was holding his hand. Her husband who he presumed to be the owner of the strong arms that had stopped him falling was equally adorned.

He concluded that as he was in an airport miles from home where nobody knew who his was that he was reasonably safe, and that in the absence of anyone else who seemed to know what was happening, he should count himself lucky. Taking a sip of his tea he listened as his newly found acquaintances explained to him that this time of year when the weather changed so quickly, most of flights ended up being delayed and a bumpy ride. Unless he was going to Inverness or for a winter holiday in the Cairngorms, then he shouldn't worry.'

'You sit there and chat to the wife mate,' the unsuspecting Gary told the head of the Security Services Counter Terrorism, as he headed towards the long queue at the information desk in search of news about their flight and Harry's.

Bumpy had been an understatement in the extreme, as the small plane carrying less than twenty passengers had been buffeted by gale force winds as it crossed the small divide between the mainland and Stornoway. Walking the short distance across the tarmac to the small airport terminal in the biting cold wind and with sleet in the air, resulted in Harry controlling his desire to just jump into his hire car and drive south and instead head into the rest room to settle his still heaving stomach. He hadn't eaten since breakfast time which was part of the problem, so once he'd tidied himself up he grabbed a quick sandwich and a coffee. Ruth didn't know that he was coming so he could hardly expect her to feed him, besides which another half an hour would give him time to calm down and control his now desperate need to hold her. Should he kiss her straight away or should he take his time? Was he being presumptuous as she'd once joked, that they'd be able pick up where they'd left off and that she'd want to sleep with him? Too many questions and so few answers and standing there worrying about it wasn't solving anything.

Taking a deep breath, he sorted out his luggage and headed back out into the cold to pick up his hire car. He thanked God that Tariq had hired him a Range Rover and that he didn't have to get to grips with something new on what he'd been led would be inhospitable roads.

'Watch out for the sheep,' had been Malcolm's parting shot.

The main road was virtually empty so he made good time and it wasn't until he turned onto the side road and drove over what was described as The Crags, that he fully appreciated how bleak the landscape was. It forced him to pull into the side and to try and get his bearings. The large island in the distance he knew had to be Skye, but apart from that there was nothing but a great vastness of ocean in every direction, other than what were obviously houses, visible only because of a scattering of twinkling lights. Only another mile to go the satnav told him, he was so close now, he could feel his heart rate thundering. Arriving in the heart of the village his journey came to a screeching halt outside the church. Harry was confronted by what he presumed to be the entire population who were heading to some sort of event or concert. Sheep and Angels and all manner of other small children were being shepherded from cars. Christ he really didn't need this. Edging his way through the assembling throng, he finally manged to take the turn to what he knew would be Ruth's cottage, only to be forced to one side by someone driving in the opposite direction.

* * *

Parking spaces around the church were at a premium, so Aidan's parents who had kindly offered to give Ruth a lift arrived in plenty of time. Apart from Ruth's car, the postman and visitors to the Mc Kays who were an elderly couple who never went out so consequently had everything delivered, nothing went up and down that lane especially at night. It was a close shave and whoever the idiot was that was driving far too quickly ought to have known better, according to Aidan's irate Dad.

Ruth had arranged with Michael that she and the children should wait in the vestry until the church door had been closed after the last of the congregation had arrived. They'd then walk quietly across the back of the church in readiness for the service to begin. At six pm, in a church that was filling up until it would be standing room only, she had no idea that the man who had been to hell and back to reach this moment, was frantically trying to decide what to do next. Her car was parked outside her house, there was smoke coming from the chimney and a light had been left on.


	10. Chapter 10

Fumbling in the dark and banging his shins in the process on something that he determined to kick the next time he saw it, Harry made his way around to the back of Ruth's house. Had she not left a light on which he presumed was to make it more welcoming when she returned, he would have tripped over the steps to the porch. In her haste to leave, Ruth had left the back door open but this was the Harry that loved her not her boss and this was Ruth's domain not his, he couldn't just barge in. For one ridiculous moment he was mindful to tell Ruth to update her security until he realised the stupidity of the thought. She wasn't Ruth Evershed from the Home Office she was Susan Barnes. This wasn't central London it was about as remote as it got, and in a small rural community where everyone would look out for each other, Ruth was hardly likely to get burgled. Teetering on her porch and reluctant to go inside he spotted what looked like some sort of leaflet that had been made by a child. His first thought filled him with horror. Children came with fathers and mothers but surely Ruth hadn't become involved with someone in such a short space of time? Ruth didn't do anything quickly, she had a certificate that said ' _I take ages to make up my mind,'_ and besides which she was his. Reaching forward he picked up the leaflet and within a minute was back in the Range Rover and driving equally quickly back up the hill.

* * *

The candles had been lit and were flickering along the front of each and every pew. The scene was set and at the appointed time, Ron dipped the lights and the vicar asked everyone to stand. Harry had only just made through the doors before they'd been shut behind him, but like the spy that he was, he'd found himself a seat where he was anything but conspicuous. Assuming that he'd eventually spot her, he had absolutely no idea that within a few moments he'd be able to spend the rest of his evening feasting is eyes on Ruth as he'd never seen her before, or in fact that if he'd reached out his hand as she walked past him he'd be able to touch her.

As the choir stood to sing the opening carol and the audience most of which was made up of parents and relatives held their breath, Harry's heart that had been racing at a rate that he knew wasn't healthy, went into overdrive. Ruth, his Ruth, looking more glorious and confident than he'd ever seen her, walked slowly down the aisle with a boy that Harry presumed to be about ten. Turning to face the congregation she smiled, the signal for Rory and Maisie to walk forward. As parents strained in an effort to spot their individual offspring, over heads that were blocking their vision, Harry didn't move, he was transfixed. Everything that he had ever felt for her was crystalized into that one single moment.

Ruth's plan that 'Away in a Manger' should be the high point of the evening, had Harry holding tight to the top of the pew in front of him to stop himself falling. The children had made their way from the hillside and from behind the makeshift houses and had gathered in front of Ruth, with an ease that belied the lack of practice that had gone into this performance. As the congregation sat back down and Harry took another deep breath, his eyes joined the children's that were already fixed upon Ruth. It was dark all but the candle light and the lights on the tree and nobody was watching the stranger that had arrived in their village unannounced. Breathing in time with the woman that he loved, he felt energised and healed, but most of all he felt at home.

Ruth threw everything she had into these few precious moments as she conducted her little band of angels through their unaccompanied carol. It was a minor miracle, but Aidan sang the first just as Ruth had prayed he would until the others joined in. By the start of the final verse as Ruth's body continued to move in time to the music, Harry had balled up his fists to contain his emotion. Ruth for her part was well aware that the atmosphere behind her was crackling, but had no idea that one of the congregation was struggling to breathe, as he gazed at her unashamedly, prouder than he'd ever been. She was the Ruth that only he knew, luminous in her beauty and so full of life when she did something that she was good at. The energy was just bouncing off her like waves, it was incredible. God how he'd missed her.

It wasn't that Harry couldn't sing, he didn't sing or at least he didn't until the lady that was sitting beside him jabbed at his programme and pointed out that everyone was supposed to be singing Rudolph the red nosed Reindeer. Refraining from saying do you know who I am, he dutifully opened and closed his mouth and mimed. Ruth by now was facing him surrounded by the children, the little ones of which were either hanging onto or leaning against her in order to stay awake. She looked so at home surrounded by children, completely in her comfort zone and clearly enjoying herself. It was a whole new Ruth that he was witnessing, perhaps the Ruth that had briefly had Nico in her life?

As the evening drew to a close Harry stayed put. This was her day and he was content to sit and watch her as one by one she made a fuss of the children, thanking them and reminding them that tomorrow afternoon that they shouldn't be late for the party.

'Brilliant Susan, thank you so much,' said Michael again, giving Ruth a huge hug before disappearing with Rose and the rest of his family through the side door, shouting back to her 'that they'd see her in the morning, no excuses.'

* * *

All bar the disappearing footsteps there was silence. Ruth was alone again. She should have felt happy, the whole day had been a success, so why didn't she? She knew the answer. Trying desperately hard to hold it together and not let the realisation that what she had been building herself up to was over and that there was nothing left, she sank down in a pew beside the now silent Bethlehem and gazed at the tree.

Harry held his breath and he also held his ground. Something about Ruth's body language had changed and he needed to decide what. He'd waited so long for this moment but he had no intension of either of them doing a runner this time. Ruth had been so buoyant during the service when she'd been surrounded by the children, but now sitting on her own and gazing at the tree she looked defeated. Why? What was it? You idiot he told himself, realising that any doubts that he may have had that she would be pleased to see him or may have made a new life without him were ridiculous. It was the tree. It was the bloody tree. She'd meant what she'd said in her letter and was remembering their Christmases on the grid after the others had drifted home. The bubble that had surrounded her had burst and she was battling with the reality of her life alone. It was time.

He didn't want to surprise or let alone frighten her, but enough was enough, he was torturing himself watching her. Totally unplanned, he resorted to the tried and tested from another evening in another lifetime and walked silently down the aisle until he was within inches of touching her.

'Nice night out?' he whispered.

She stopped breathing.

For what felt like the longest ten seconds in Harry's life, nothing happened. Ruth hadn't moved, not because she didn't want to, but because she didn't dare. For a moment she thought that on night when the need of him was so strong that she'd rather die than be disappointed, that she'd somehow conjured him up and if she turned round that he wouldn't be there.

He tried again.

'Ruth.'

With a speed that surprised even him, she threw herself at him with a ferocity that belied her size. It should have hurt like hell, but Ruth clinging to him and telling him that she loved him was such an unexpected reaction that he didn't feel anything other than her body pressed against him.

'I love you too,' sounded so bloody inadequate, but it was all that he had in the moment, until he realised that she was shivering despite the fact that he was holding onto her for dear life.

'Home,' he suggested when she finally raised her head and smiled.

'Home,' she agreed, but not before he'd kissed her.

* * *

Ron, expecting the church to be empty had arrived unheard and unannounced. He really liked Miss Barnes she was a breath of much needed fresh air in the village. She treated him as an equal with a cheery good morning or the offer of a cup of tea at the end of the day before he went home. He'd kidded his wife Ellie of forty years who been bullying him to retire, that if he'd been thirty years younger it would have been a close run thing as to which home he actually went back to each evening. He was here to lock up and he was just about to tell the couple who were wrapped together inside the gentleman's coat, kissing each other in a way that he'd only seen in films for the last ten years to clear off, when he realised who the lady was. If this was what he hoped it was then it would be round the village in no time, but certainly not from his lips, he needed to make himself scarce.

* * *

The house was warm and welcoming. Harry didn't bang his shins on the way in and by the time that Ruth arrived back with a tray of tea and a plate of Rose's mince pies, he'd hung up his coat and was relaxing in front of the fire. At this stage he had no idea that the cottage that he was sitting in belonged to Dolby or the full story as to how Ruth had been forced to come here. Nothing mattered, other than the fact that he was here with her.

'Bed,' she suggested an hour later as she banked up the fire, in such a matter a fact way that it made Harry smile. She was just so bloody confident and capable in what until recently had been an alien environment, but then this was Ruth, so why wouldn't she be?

In truth, Ruth was horrified by the amount of weight that Harry had lost since she'd last seen him and how exhausted he looked. She had another long day ahead of her tomorrow helping to get the hall ready for the party, but for now she needed to sleep. The last thing that she wanted was for Harry to fall asleep on her sofa when she had a comfortable and welcoming bed waiting for them upstairs. It wasn't as though they hadn't slept together before, although that hadn't involved much sleeping. By the size of the suitcase that she had helped him drag out of his car it wasn't just a short visit that he was planning, so anything other than a cuddle another kiss and sleeping could wait. She'd already got her Christmas present, he was here beside her and that was all that mattered.

Harry refrained from saying that the dress that she was wearing made him wish that he didn't feel so tired and Ruth managed to control the emotion that she felt, knowing that the reason that Harry had said that his case could stay where it was until the morning, was because he just couldn't lift it. What he couldn't hide and what he was most dreading, were the bruises that still lingered and the fact that his ribs showed.

The bed was sumptuous for a small cottage as without another word other than 'I assume you'd like me to sleep on the right,' Harry climbed into bed. He'd tried so hard to say awake, but when Ruth pottered back from the bathroom it was to find an already sleeping Harry. It was her turn to gaze at him and just as he'd done a few hours earlier and she couldn't take her eyes off him. She was desperately tired, but for the few precious moments before she leant across his battered body to turn off the light, she was as close to being in heaven as she'd ever felt. All her imaginings hadn't prepared her for this and she knew that the tears that she'd held back for so long were coming, just as surely as she knew that whatever happened in the future, that she couldn't be parted from Harry again.

'I love you so much,' she whispered, as she snuggled in against him and closed her eyes. He was here and he was hers beyond doubt and she intended to look after him and make him whole again. Safe and together for the first time in months, they slept the sleep of the dead.

* * *

As Ruth woke and climbed out of bed, Harry slept on. As much as she didn't want to move she knew that she had to. The fire needed attention, she needed to get showered and dressed and then once she'd had breakfast, it was going to be all hands on deck in the village. Therein lay a not inconsiderable problem and with it a decision. Namely the five foot nine head of counter terrorism that was currently asleep in her bed. She didn't want to leave him, in fact the way that he'd looked last night she wasn't going to, which meant that she had to take him with her. But how on earth was she going to introduce him to those who turned up at the hall, who would wonder how miraculously overnight she'd found herself a man.

Her musings were interrupted by Harry talking on his phone, draped in a blanket that he'd presumably found in the bottom of her wardrobe.

'Yes I am with Ruth and no we're not in bed,' was accompanied by his raised eyebrows as he mouthed Catherine. 'We're just about to have breakfast,' had Ruth worrying as to what she could possibly have in her fridge that Harry would consider to be breakfast. The last time that they'd been in this situation together, breakfast had consisted of another half hour in bed, which had seen them arriving late on the grid and had been paramount in increasing the rumours. Now though they were virtually domestic, it was real and she had no idea what Harry normally ate, if anything. Porridge it would have to be, they'd have to go shopping later. They'd never shared a bathroom either and she had no idea as to whether Harry bathed or showered. She'd always assumed it to be the latter, but the thought of finding out had her hands shaking, which resulted in her spilling her tea.

Harry didn't care what Ruth fed him. It was sufficient that he was sitting here in front of her fire having been handed a cup of coffee. They'd spent almost two months apart and he knew nothing about what she'd been doing and how she'd come to be here. The floor was hers. All he wanted was to sit and gaze at her and to listen. For half an hour which was interspersed with the delivery of his breakfast, gentle touches and moments of exquisite silence as they gazed at each other, she told them about her interview with Dolby and his threat that Harry would killed if she didn't do as he'd asked. She told him about her meeting Christopher on the ferry, the kindness of the villagers, about her growing friendship with Michael and especially Rose and how she'd been cajoled into teaching the children.

'I was terrified at first,' she told him, 'but they're lovely, especially the little ones, you'll see,' was said with an enthusiasm that Harry recognised. It led her into the next point, which was to tell him about her commitment at ten and that if he felt up to it, that she'd like him to go with her.

'I have to go this evening as well or they'll send out a search party,' she told him, 'it might even be fun.'

Where you go I will surely follow thought Harry, leaning in to kiss her. He could get used to this.

'Catherine's idea,' he told her as they unpacked his suitcase and Ruth was treated to a pile of trousers and jumpers, none of which she'd seen before. Harry wearing something cuddly and casual had the same effect on Ruth as hers on him, when she wore something akin to the red dress that she'd been wearing the previous evening. It was a somewhat complicated but solvable scenario which would involve a lot of dressing and undressing. Whilst he continued to unpack and stow his clothes in a bedroom that was designed for two people and as such made Ruth's small collection of clothes feel less alone, Ruth headed into the bathroom to have a shower and get dressed.

The sun was starting to come up and by the time that Ruth returned, Harry had opened the curtains and was sitting on the bed and gazing out of the window. It was his first view of what Ruth had woken up to every day and it was mind blowing, it was beautiful. He felt Ruth climb up onto the bed behind him and wrap her arms around him and as he leaned back into her, breathing her in, an arousal that had been missing for so long threatened to overtake him. He hadn't shaved or showered for more than twenty four hours and his was travel dirty in every respect. She was clean and she was beautiful and when he made love to her he wanted it to be perfect, he had to wait. There had been too many misunderstandings and mixed messages between them, that over the years had resulted in one or the other assuming rather than dealing with what was in front of them. Not so now, they had turned a corner.

'I really need to take a shower before we take this further,' was said with a grin on his face, that left Ruth knowing exactly what he was trying to tell her, as she watched his retreating back as he headed into the bathroom leaving her to get dressed and ponder how she would introduce him to her friends. More than anything she didn't want to lie anymore, especially to Rose and to Michael.

* * *

Harry insisted that he walked into the hall with his arm around her shoulder although as far as Rose was concerned he didn't need to. The moment that she saw them together she knew exactly who he was. It was the change in Ruth and the electricity that was bouncing off them in waves.

'I'm Harry,' he'd said, shaking her hand and beaming at her with gorgeous twinkling eyes, that had Rose biting her lip to stop herself saying something totally inappropriate for a vicar's wife so going for the obvious, 'very pleased to meet you.'

Ruth said nothing. They'd agreed that it should be him that would explain his arrival in as simple a way as he could and that she'd go along with whatever he said.

'My work takes me all over the world, most recently to the US,' he told them sticking to the truth, 'but as luck would have it, they allowed me to come home for Christmas.'

Rose refrained from asking him what he did and asked the obvious question, which was how long did would he be staying. This was where Harry veered entirely away from the plot by announcing that he'd got a one way ticket, he'd realised that he'd already spent far too much time away from Susan and that he'd stay for as long as she wanted him. Rose thought it sounded like a proposal and Ruth in as many hours, stopped breathing again.

'He's lovely,' Rose told a still shocked to the core but ecstatic Ruth, as for the next hour they sat and watched Harry helping Michael and Ron who were hanging up the decorations whilst they sat at a table in the corner wrapping presents for the children. The hall that was used for everything from a mother and baby group to the New Year's Eve Dance, was taking on a new face at the rate of knots, as parents who had once been the children that were going to attend the party, set too and did what they did at the same time every year.

Until a halt was called at lunchtime when Ruth and Harry were invited back to the vicarage rather than go home, Ruth's had been analysing. The past couldn't be changed nor could what they had seen or done together. She hadn't missed London or her job it was Harry that she'd longed for. Here she'd been accepted without question and if the way that Michael he and Ron were chatting across the other side of the room was anything to go by, then so would he. That they loved each other had never been in doubt, that they knew each other as well as any two souls on earth was a given and now here they were with the chance of a lifetime together. She was going to say yes.


	11. Chapter 11

The ability to focus since Harry's statement that he had a one way ticket, had completely deserted Ruth, and the thought that further revelations might be disclosed during lunch had seen her telling Rose that she needed some fresh air and that they'd be there in a moment. Despite the biting wind that had necessitated them clinging to each other to get there, she'd dragged Harry up onto the 'The High Point' and to the bench that faced the sea. She needed answers to her as yet unasked questions and she needed them now. Rose had thought that it sounded like a proposal and had told her so, Ruth wasn't so sure. Besides, the last time he'd asked her she'd said no and Harry wasn't known for his courage or persistence when it came to matters of the heart.

'I can't deal with this now,' as a reply, sounded more like her than Harry and her heart froze, until he went on to explain that in order to move forward, he needed to tell her about what had happened to him in the US and that he'd rather that they were sitting in front of her fire, or better still in bed. 'What I can tell you is that it changed everything, particularly my perspective on what's important,' he told her. 'I meant what I said Ruth, I love you and unless you've changed your mind, I'm not going back.'

This time it wasn't Rose that he was telling it was her, as with the most open and adoring look on his face that she had ever seen, he held her gaze. She knew that if she said anything that the tears would come and that was the last thing that he needed to see, so she just nodded.

'Why here?' he asked her, indicating the bench and the view. It was a question to which she knew he knew the answer and was trying to draw her into the same mind set as he found himself. She so wanted to give him something to hang onto until they went home.

'Because every time I've sat here, you've been sitting beside me,' she told him, with a look that said _you know what I mean._

In the silence that followed he leant slowly forward and drew her towards him, his eyes never leaving hers, as in the distance the sound of the waves pounding against the shoreline matched their breathing. This time there was nobody to see them when he kissed her, making a wry comment about the number of layers of clothes that she was wearing, something that he would never have dared do in the past, even though he'd always thought it. Strangely it was the turning point and both of them knew it. No more secrets, no more games, this was real and this was now and they had into infinity to find a way to make it work.

'Lunch,' he said, kissing her on the tip of her nose when they reluctantly pulled apart.

* * *

'So,' asked a busy Rose, as Michael joined her in the kitchen waiting for Ruth and Harry to arrive.

'Absolutely besotted,' didn't go unheard by either Ruth or Rory, who having heard his parents return, had raced down from his bedroom and barrelled into the couple in question.

Miss. Barnes was his favourite teacher, she was nice to him even when he was naughty. He already knew that his parents had invited her to spend Christmas with them, but he had no idea who the man was that was smiling at her and helping her out of her coat. What he did know and he'd been practising all morning, was that he had a very special job to do at the end of the party and that he had to keep it a secret.

'Rubbish,' said Rose, when Ruth said that now there were two of them that they couldn't possibly come for Christmas, as she watched Harry tucking in to the first proper meal that he'd eaten since he'd been out with Catherine.

'Rubbish,' repeated the irrepressible Rory, as his sister and his elder brother just nodded.

How could you tell a five year old not to talk with his mouth full when you were trying not to laugh was the general census of opinion and prevented any further argument and a 'thank you we'd love to come,' from Harry.

* * *

'I'm enjoying myself, stop worrying,' Harry told her, carrying two more plates of sandwiches as they passed like ships in the night between the two tables of chattering children who were tucking into the mountain of food. In the run up to what he'd described to an equally besotted Ruth as _the teddy bears picnic,_ he'd endured party games the like of which he'd not seen since Catherine had been small. He'd ended up being covered in jelly, at a time when he and Jane had just about been talking and he'd moved into the spare bedroom after she'd called him a selfish bastard because he'd complained. Now though, he'd been encouraged and eventually joined in with the singing of Jingle Bell Rock as they'd played pass the parcel and had helped as they'd handed out the presents. Nobody had questioned who he was, it felt as though it had been accepted amongst the parents that he was with Ruth. He was out of the limelight and he was enjoying it.

'Children,' said Michael, clapping his hands to bring order to the chaos, which was Rory's signal that his moment had arrived.

In a darkened church and in an environment where she'd been in her comfort zone, Ruth had just about coped with the attention. In the brightly lit village hall that was filled with twenty plus children and their parents, where the vicar was singing her praises and reminding everyone about the previous evening and that its success had been entirely down to her, she felt differently despite the fact that Harry was standing next to her. She knew that her face was beginning to flush and that her hands had started to shake, made worse because Harry had put his hand on her back and his fingers were drawing circles between her shoulders.

Encouraged by his father Rory walked towards her, carrying some flowers and a huge card that the children had signed. It was going so well until he was within a few steps of reaching her, when it became apparent that his composure was deserting him and that he was in danger of dropping them. As everyone else held their breath willing him to get there Harry stepped forward. It was a reflex action completely out of character given the circumstances, as he realised only too late that in his effort to help Rory, his face was within inches of Ruth and it looked as though he was going to kiss her. As he cleared his throat and looked at her with eyes that said anything but sorry, Rory held out his gift.

'Busted.' Harry whispered.

'What's busted?' asked a small voice.

It felt like an age before the hall was tidy and they were able to say their goodbyes. They still hadn't been to the shop and they needed to stock up until they found time to go into Stornoway.

'See you at eleven,' Harry's incarnation repeated after his mother, as Harry looked down at the small boy, who having been rescued. had abandoned Ruth and stuck to him like glue. They'd been discussing Christmas morning and the fact they were invited for pre - lunch drinks.

Harry's appreciation as to what it felt like to be part of a small community was increased by the welcome that they received, as he pushed the now loaded trolley around the shop. Unlike London where you were fortunate to know your neighbour, he was greeted as though he'd lived there all his life.

'Do you realise that in all the years that we've known each other, this is the first time that we haven't had to think about the consequences of our actions,' Harry told her, as she opened the door of the Range Rover and Christopher's father helped him load their shopping, which included some food left over from the party sufficient for a cosy supper round the fire.

* * *

Home after what had been a long day, they made the unspoken decision to delay what for Harry would be painful to recall and for Ruth heart breaking to hear. Undressed and wearing what they would eventually sleep in, with their food in front of them, Harry opened a bottle of wine and poured two glasses.

'Tell me Harry,' she eventually pressed him, worried that he'd changed his mind and had shut down. Burying his pain through so many years of loss had been his default setting, but if they were going to make their relationship work then it had change.

It wasn't a particularly long story because there were weeks during the last few months that he simply couldn't remember. But as she relived it with him, she thanked God that she'd been spared from knowing at the time, as with her hands firmly clasped in his, he told her what had happened.

'The first couple of weeks when they used me as a punch bag were the easiest,' he told her, 'because I'd resigned myself to the fact that I was going to die.'

She waited without question until he spoke again.

'Then came the relentless questions followed by days of solitude when I truly believed that I was going out of my mind. I used to talk to you, can you believe that?' came as a question that she couldn't answer for fear of crying, after which he told her about the final two weeks when he been starved and deprived of water or sanitation which was when Callum and Bob had arrived. He remembered nothing about the flight home or how many days he had lain in his bed with nothing but nightmares, missing her with a pain so unbearable that he'd wished that they'd killed him.

Finally, by which time Ruth was crying and Harry was searching for his handkerchief, he told her about Towers and Bob's involvement. How the team had worked behind Erin's back and that they'd all contributed to finding her. How Catherine had refused to let him give up and last but not least, because it was Christmas Eve when there was every chance that they'd be interrupted by Santa, that they ought to get an early night.

Ruth stopped crying, she refrained from asking how many times if ever he'd used that line, she didn't care. The smile that had returned to his face was worth a million cheesy lines. In the semi darkness of the room, on what they both hoped would be the eve of many more Christmases together, she leaned in and kissed him. It was Harry's undoing and the reason that they never made it to the bedroom. Ruth in any state of dress did things to his body, it always had, but there was something about Ruth in her jim jams that he found totally intoxicating. As she continued to kiss him with her now naked breasts pressed hard against his chest, he knew where this was heading. An equally aroused Ruth had seemingly lost all her inhibitions, when having been told to forget about his damaged ribs, she'd developed an appetite for almost all of him.

It was the ultimate in poetic justice, that on an evening when their voyage of discovery was set to eclipse the last time that they'd made love by a country mile, that the man who had orchestrated Ruth being there, was lying in the self-same cell where Harry had been but with absolutely no hope of being rescued. As a pulsating Harry sank deep into a now pleading Ruth for the second time, Dolby was crying for his mother.

Completely sated they eventually abandoned the sofa and dragged themselves up the stairs to bed and this time when Catherine rang to wish them a Happy Christmas, they were asleep. Jim jams abandoned they were wrapped together as a perfect Christmas present to each other, sleeping a dreamless sleep.

Breakfast in bed with a man whose eyes matched the honey that Ruth was spreading on her toast who was telling her that it was the best seduction that he'd ever experienced and would she like to do it again, could have seen them skipping Christmas lunch in exchange for a day in bed, instead of which Harry answered Ruth's yet to be asked question by insisting that they showered together.

'What's it to be Ruth,' he kidded her, when despite herself she hesitated, 'either you come in or I come out, but either way I've got no clothes on.'

Not surprisingly they were slightly late arriving at the vicarage where Christmas was already in full swing. They'd had a brief discussion with Michael and Rose with the mutual agreement that there'd be no presents, but when they'd done their shopping the previous evening they'd seen a sledge. Ruth had remembered that Rose had told her that theirs had been broken and that once Christmas was over when Michael wouldn't be so busy, that they intended looking for a new one. It was in the boot of Harry's car.

* * *

'Have you given any more thought to what I said?' Rose slipped into the conversation as she and Ruth loaded the dishwasher after Harry and Michael had been dispatched to the lounge with the children, who having finished their lunch were impatient to return to the new toys that littered the floor. She hadn't of course, she'd been rather pre occupied since Harry had arrived and she suspected that Rose knew that. Harry apologising for yawning, mid - way through what was in all honesty the best and only proper Christmas Lunch that either of them had eaten in years, had made it rather obvious.

'You're, so lucky,' was followed by a statement that caused Ruth to pause and think, as Rose told her that it was blindingly obvious that Harry adored her and that if she felt the same about him, to make the most of it. 'Time changes relationships especially when kids come along. I still love Michael just as much as I did when I met him,' she told her, 'but those early days when everything is new and has an excitement about it are special and will never be eclipsed, so enjoy it.'

Had she not been standing in Rose's kitchen and a million miles from London, she'd have considered the real possibility that the house had been bugged and that Rose had witnessed her seducing Harry in what he'd described as the best ever. As it was, it must have been blindingly obvious that they'd spent the last twelve hours _at it like rabbits_ as Ros had once hinted, when she'd walked into Harry's office and found them sitting rather too close together on his sofa with Harry's hand on her knee, and she'd been stupid enough to jump to her feet and race for the door.

This was different and Ruth wasn't naiive enough to believe that there was anything other than a genuine concern for her that had made Rose say what she had. Although she had no doubts that her future lay with Harry, the where that would be was a huge question that they needed to discuss, so she stuck to her guns and repeated her promise that she'd make her decision after New Year.

'No rush,' said Rose with a smile, putting on the kettle.

Ruth had never been further than the kitchen in the vicarage, so when she opened the door for Rose who was carrying the tray of coffees and cold drinks for the children, she didn't know what to expect. The lounge loomed large screaming of a family Christmas, with a large tree in one corner, a fireplace bedecked with decorations and cards, presents everywhere and a wood burning stove burning brightly.

Ruth saw none of this as her eyes wide with surprise fixed on Harry who was performing a masterclass as a perfect father.

Michael was asleep in his chair, but Harry divested of his shoes and with his shirt sleeves rolled up, was was sitting on the floor with Robert who was working his way through an instruction booklet. In front of them sat the twins, surrounded by piles of building blocks piecing together what looked like the runway of an airport.

Harry's concentration was only broken when he looked up and winked at her, patting the floor beside him suggesting that he could do with some help if she fancied it, a statement that was loaded with so much more than an invitation to join him with the children. Ruth could almost hear Rose saying, I told you so.

* * *

'Come on you two, time to go to bed,' Rose told the protesting twins, as Harry and Ruth thanked them for a wonderful day with the promise that they'd see them soon.

'We'll give you a call about New Year's Eve,' Michael called after their disappearing backs. 'We have plans.'


	12. Chapter 12

The week that followed Christmas at the vicarage was broken into segments, each of which cemented what was already their forever relationship. Harry knew it and Ruth knew it. They laughed and they cried, but above all and without restraint they talked about anything and everything. Pre conceived ideas about Harry's failed marriage to Jane and Ruth's brief relationship with George were brought out into the open and when Ruth answered what was for Harry was the only unanswered question, put to bed. George might have been dead, but he was still the spectre at the feast that haunted the recesses of Harry's mind and he needed to know the answer.

'Did you love him?' he asked her again. A question loaded with so much more than four simple words.

'I reason that I feel guilty, she whispered, 'is because I led him to believe that I did, and that was unforgivable,' she told him, going on to explain that it was the pace of life and the quiet but most especially Nico that she'd loved and still missed.

'Forgiving ourselves is the most difficult thing to do Ruth we both know that, but we have to do it to survive,' he told her, repeating what she had so often said to him.

Two out of three on her wish list they had, the pace of life and the quiet and her love of Nico certainly explained her obvious bond with the children. Whether it went deeper than that and she actually wanted a child of her own or with him, he had no idea. That though was a question for another day when they weren't emotionally charged, but if she did, he would do his damnedest to make it happen he could promise her that.

* * *

Determining that they should put the past and what for now they couldn't change behind them, their priority was that Harry needed to regain his fitness. He'd never liked walking, in fact he'd avoided any type of exercise like the plague, but with Ruth's insatiable encouragement and the threat that she'd run away with Ron if he didn't, he bought himself a pair of walking boots, a small haversack and a map of the island. Muffled up to the nines and looking every bit the part should anyone meet them which of course they didn't, they walked at some point every day, sometimes for miles, exploring where up to now Ruth had studiously avoided. Stunningly beautiful was how Harry described the view in front of him and her, when tucked under an outcrop of rocks to shelter them from the prevailing wind, Ruth sat pouring their morning coffee.

'And I suppose you think you're Richard Hannay striding across the Highlands?' came with a glowing smile.

'And you're losing your memory Ruth, I don't stride, I pace, remember?' gained him an extra biscuit.

It was how it was and always should have been, in a relationship that had been so unnecessarily complicated but had been unpicked to be perfect. He didn't care that Ruth was organising him, on reflection she always had. He felt better, he felt re energised and the fact that he hadn't touched a drop of whisky for over a week, said a lot about his state of mind.

Their first of two trips into Stornoway had seen them returning Harry's hire car and visiting several garages to enquire about part exchanging Ruth's, what Harry described as a shoe box, for something larger. Besides which it had been Dolby's and a recent call from Callum had assured them that he was long gone. The lease on the cottage had given Ruth the option to buy and it didn't take long before Malcolm and Tariq had worked their magic so that without any formalities or payment, the cottage belonged to her. Stop gap it might be, but they had a home that was theirs and they were revelling in it.

* * *

Harry still woke early, finding it difficult to break the habit of a lifetime and had taken on the jobs of re stocking the fire and making their first cup of tea. Why everyone still insisted ringing them first thing in the morning was a mystery, given that those who did it must have known that there was every possibility that they might be _busy._

'Bollocks,' was the latest expletive, when three days before New Year's Eve just after he'd climbed back into bed, the phone rang.

'I'm sorry if I've disturbed you,' said Rose, 'but the children are driving me crazy. If you look out of your window you'll know why.'

An hour later having rushed _breakfast_ , Harry had stopped muttering. They were back at the vicarage watching Robert racing downhill on the new sledge, whilst Ruth was helping Rory and Maisie build a snowman. A hot toddy in his coffee and some toast was helping, plus a call to say that their new car had arrived and would be delivered later that day.

'If you can drag your eyes away from her for a minute,' said a voice in Harry's ear, as Rose joined him on a seat in the garden, 'I've got a proposition.'

Harry had been back in his favourite bubble, where Ruth dressed in anything was a turn on and on this particular morning when she was dressed for the occasion in a padded jacket and bobble hat that matched the colour of her eyes, he'd been miles away. She looked so vibrant and so bloody happy that he was finding it hard not to rush over to her and to hell with any propriety.

'Please say that you'll come with us,' Rose pleaded, having explained that every New Year's Eve, she and Michael were expected to attend a dinner dance in Stornoway and that her brother and his wife who usually went with them, had rung and cancelled. 'It's in a hotel and you can stay overnight,' was a carrot that Harry couldn't resist. He'd already planned to persuade Ruth that they went somewhere for the evening, but not knowing Stornoway had so far failed to decide where. 'She's got the dress, I was with her when she bought it,' continued the insistent Rose, forgetting that Harry had already seen Ruth in it, 'and once the dinner's over you'll be able to dance with her,' was the proverbial straw that broke his resolve.

In all the years that he'd known Ruth, it wasn't until the last few days that they'd touched each other as they did now and he'd _never_ danced with her other than in his imagination. The prospect of being able to do so and then take her to bed, on what in Scotland was the most important night of the year was more than enticing. To Harry it was the stuff of dreams. The only problem was that his penguin suit had been abandoned in London, not that it would have fitted him, now that he'd lost weight.

'Heaven forbid,' a surprised Rose told him, going on to explain that a smart suit or better still a kilt if he fancied it would be the order of the day, the latter of which he inwardly declined. Richard Hannay or not, it was only Ruth who got to see his legs.

Promising a hesitant Ruth that he'd make it a night to remember and the children that they'd spend a whole day with them as soon as they got back, he rang the garage to say that they'd collect the car in person because they needed to come back into Stornoway.

* * *

The _definitely maybe_ that had been Ruth's response about the New Year's Eve dinner, changed in an instant when Harry suggested that they had their lunch at the hotel to see what it was like. It in no way resembled the imposing places that they'd been forced to endure, during the endless list of events that they'd attended in London. It was warm and it was welcoming but above all it wasn't pretentious. That wasn't to say that it wouldn't have been somewhere that Harry would have chosen to take Ruth because it was. Still bedecked in its Christmas Decorations it had atmosphere in what Ruth would have described as a good way. With a few couples and a family already eating, they were shown into the dining room and to a table by the fire. There was no talk of a Grand Tour or the nervousness that had over ridden their first meal out together, they were relaxed and they were happy. Their hands that in another life had crept towards and then receded from each other, met without question as Harry held her tiny hand in his, not even moving when the waiter brought them a menu and asked them if they would like anything to drink.

'I could get used to this,' she told him, just as she'd thought the first time but would never have dared say.

'Harry and Ruth Pearce,' Harry told the young receptionist, when they'd finished their meal and before they headed back outside into the cold, he'd asked if they could see the room where they'd be staying in a couple of nights. He was determined that Ruth would feel comfortable when they arrived and that there'd be no surprises. She did and the room was lovely.

He didn't like shopping but this was different, it felt magical and he still wanted to buy Ruth a belated Christmas Present. He knew what it was and he suspected that she did too, as at breakneck speed in search of the elusive suit she dragged him past jeweller's windows. Two could play at this game he thought, smiling to himself at her earnest face. He could wait, she would say yes in the end, he certainly wasn't going to rush her.

With the light starting to fade and the temperature dropping even further they were both at the point of admitting defeat when they spotted what in London would have been described as a gentleman's outfitters. It was tucked in a side street away from the hubbub of the main shops and they would have missed it if it hadn't been for a small child that was pointing to a bedraggled and long overdue Santa that had walked passed. Unusually for shops in this day and age, a bell rang when you opened the door and they found themselves stepping back in time into an Aladdin's cave of drawers, shelves and rails.

Why do people always assume that? Thought Ruth knowing full well the answer, when the elderly shopkeeper who looked like something out of a Dicken's novel tottered off in search of a glass of something to warm them up, telling Harry to listen to his wife because women always knew best. Twice in one day, it was becoming the norm.

In the end, Harry settled on what Ruth described as perfect and they headed back out into the now packed streets in search of the new car. When he bundled the parcels onto the back seat and then opened the door for her, there was a tinge of the old days, when on the odd occasion, Harry had succeeded in getting Ruth to accept a lift home. It was long before she'd gone to Cyprus and he'd become Sir Harry and had been assigned a permanent driver, but just as she used to then, she leaned back in her seat and watched the lights of the town flying by. Pull yourself together she told herself as nostalgia and regrets about wasted time threatened to overwhelm her. This evening there would be no hesitant goodbye when he opened the car door for her and if he wanted to kiss her which he'd so obviously wanted to do then, he'd do it.

'Ruth, are you alright?' asked an equally nostalgic Harry, worried as to why she'd gone so quiet, as they turned off the main road and into the darkness across the now snow covered landscape, that less than a week ago he'd driven alone.

She did what she'd always done, she turned to watch him. He always drove with his head to one side with his lips slightly pouted as though he was thinking. It was one of the things that had always fascinated her about him and made her wonder what it would be like to kiss him. Well now she knew. Rose was right about it being exciting when it was new, it was totally intoxicating.

'What do you think?' she answered him, running her hand gently down his thigh, causing him to smile.

* * *

The cottage was warm and welcoming and having carried in a basket of logs before they'd left that morning, there was nothing to do other than to relax and spend a quiet evening together. Whilst Harry went upstairs to hang up his purchases, have a shower and change, Ruth headed into the kitchen to make some tea and think about what to eat later.

On the few evenings that they'd been afforded time to spend alone, they'd avoided the TV and instead had generally listened to music. They'd always had similar tastes and on this particular night when all was well with their world and they'd done their talking, they did what they always did and gravitated towards the sofa. With nothing but the firelight to see each other by and an all - night love song programme playing in the background, they settled down. One of the things that Dolby or presumably his now widow had got right was that the sofa was large and sumptuous, although probably until now had never been put to such good use. Even with Harry stretched full out which he had taken to doing there was still plenty of space for Ruth, although on this particular evening she chose to lie at the other end so that their legs were intertwined.

He was just about to suggest that as a thank you and to give Rose a break that they should invite the children to spend a day with them, when Ruth's organising him took on a whole new dimension. Ruth who had been planning their evening ever since they'd been in the hotel ran her foot along his leg towards his groin. Had he not been so surprised and emitting a groan, he'd have said something, but she'd rendered him speechless, he was on fire.

Always shy, far less experienced than Harry and until now reticent when it came to taking the lead, Ruth needed to do this. She knew if she lost her nerve and stopped that Harry would take over as he always had, but that tonight it had to be different. She needed to prove to herself as much as to him, that she was no longer the shy and naiive girl that she had once been, but also that this was a first. Every inch of him she told herself and that was exactly what she did, until every barrier that she had erected around herself for so long came thundering down. From where Harry lay completely spent, which was now on the rug in front of the fire where they'd somehow arrived together, it was exquisite.

'Stay there,' he told her, pulling her closer as she started to roll away from him. He needed to keep her close before he closed his eyes.

Ruth wasn't tired she was just blissfully happy. Harry lying fast asleep in front of the fire without a stitch of clothing to cover his nudity was more than beautiful. It completed her and had banished forever her previous life. Kissing him gently, so as not to wake him, she covered him with a blanket and then headed into the kitchen. It was only seven thirty.

* * *

Assuming that it was Rose enquiring as to how their day had gone, she answered her phone. She was going to tell her about Harry's suggestion that the children spend a day with them, before she made some sandwiches and some more tea.

'Ruth, it's Catherine, can I talk to you for a moment?' said the voice at the other end.


	13. Chapter 13

Part of him wanted to ask her why she was smiling, to make some ridiculous remark about her being full of surprises, but this was Ruth and time had taught him to be cautious. He was fully aware of the reason and he didn't want to embarrass her. So instead, having showered and dressed for bed he just crept up behind her and pulled her close, burying his face in her hair.

'That smells nice,' had nothing to do with the omelette that she had decided to cook, rather the fragrance of her shampoo that still lingered.

So do you, thought Ruth as he pressed himself against her. Was it really only a week ago that he'd arrived, she could barely believe how far they'd come in that time. Now though she needed to concentrate so as to prevent Harry suspecting that something that bordered on the momentous was less than two days away.

Catherine's call had completely thrown her. Totally unexpected it had momentarily thrown her, but having been indecisive for years about almost everything that related to Harry, she'd said yes without question. Quite how she was going to survive for another couple of days without telling him that they were going to have visitors, or more precisely visitors that just happened to be both his children she didn't know, but survive she had to. What they had to tell him had to come from their lips not hers and she couldn't break a confidence. The fact that he hadn't seen Graham for what Harry had led her to believe was years was a concern, but Catherine had assured her that if she could handle Harry, then she'd make sure that Graham in her words _didn't behave like an arse._ The fact that Catherine used the word handle, when less than an hour ago she'd been doing just that, had brought some light relief to an otherwise stress filled conversation and was the reason she was smiling. Buttering the bread which Harry was now doing had also taken on a whole new connotation, god she'd led such a sheltered life.

* * *

Rose was delighted when they called, keep them for as long as you like were her precise words, when Harry rang her the next morning suggesting that if the children would like to, that they'd take them out for the day. Could they bring their sledge had been their only question, to which he'd said yes even though they wouldn't be able to use it. They planned taking them to a cove with a large expanse of beach that they'd discovered during one of their walks and despite the fact that there was still six inches of snow outside, Ruth was preparing a picnic.

'There's always somewhere sheltered on a beach and they won't be cold I promise,' Harry responded to Rose saying that she'd need to wrap them up well, going on to tell her that he was planning on building a fire and cooking marshmallows.'

He loved the sea or more precisely he loved anything and everything when it came to water. He always had done since he'd been a small boy. Reverting to his childhood perhaps he was or surrounding himself with children for a whole day and reliving his only happy memories of Graham and Catherine when they'd been small, maybe, but he also saw it as an opportunity to make a decision about that oh so important conversation he wanted to have with Ruth.

'Behave yourselves and do what Harry and Susan tell you,' Rose told her brood, as Harry strapped first Rory and then Maisie either side of Robert in the now full Range Rover.

On a day when the sky was a clear blue and the reflection of the sunlight on the snow was mesmerising, Ruth's mind had returned to the fantasy where the little ones that were chattering away behind them were theirs. Had she known what was on Harry's mind and that he'd planned this entire day for her so that she'd be able to spend time with the children, she might have thought that he could read her mind, but at this stage she didn't. He knew exactly where he was taking them he'd seen the beach a couple of days earlier. The fact that the new car had arrived earlier than they'd expected was a real bonus, because to use Ruth's on the now snow covered roads, would have made it impossible.

'Seals,' squealed Maisie, pointing to a group of large rocks at one end of the beach, as holding tight to Harry's hand they negotiated the path down onto the sand and then having reached it, raced off in the direction of the water's edge with Rory and Ruth in hot pursuit.

Robert wasn't over duly impressed by seals, he rather fancied the idea of building a fire and was delighted when Harry told him that he was essential to his plan. He wasn't quite sure what that meant but it sounded very grown up. He liked Susan and by extension he liked Harry as for the next few minutes while the twins were otherwise occupied, they collected driftwood together. Keeping within the shelter of the headland where the snow hadn't settled, they made several trips until they had sufficient that was dry. It wasn't only Robert who was enjoying himself, so was Harry, who with one eye on the water's edge was watching what Ruth was doing. Three pairs of legs, two of which were doing as they'd been told and hadn't taken off their wellies before they paddled were jumping up and down like jack in the boxes. The other pair which despite the cold weather were in full view with their trouser legs rolled up belonged to Ruth, who despite the fact that her feet were freezing was making a valiant attempt to avoid the spraying water by ducking and diving. If Harry could have bottled that one single image he'd have kept it for the rest of his life. As it was he was utterly lost, drowning in emotion and with the most overwhelming feeling of love that he'd ever felt. He had his answer.

'You two seem to be enjoying yourselves,' was a statement directed at both Harry and Robert, when Ruth finally arrived back with the twins and settled them down in front of the fire, where the picnic lunch sat waiting. It was a statement that was loaded with _I love you for doing this_ and so much more and both of them knew it.

'Who's Ruth?' asked an innocent Robert, when the inevitable happened as Harry forgot himself by asking her to pass him another sandwich, forgetting that she was supposedly Susan.

'I am,' she answered quickly, thinking on her now much warmer feet that were wrapped in a blanket, explaining to the children that Susan was her middle name and that she preferred it but that Harry had always called her Ruth.

'I like Ruth, it's a nice name,' said Robert, agreeing with a relieved Harry who was glad that it was children that they were dealing with and that Ruth had been quick in her explanation. She'd always be Ruth to him, legends were a thing of the past and in another life, besides which he loved her name, it was who she was and always would be.

'Can we do this again please?' Robert asked them, after they'd arrived home and were sitting round the fire, playing a board game that Ruth had found in one of the cupboards, having first rung Rose to say that they'd deliver them back at seven if that was OK? Quite why the ghastly Dolby had been in possession of anything as mundane as a compendium of games she had no idea, but everything in the house belonged to her now and once New Year was over, they'd have time to go through the cupboards together and decide what to keep. For now she was just grateful that they had something to keep the children amused, rather than resorting to watching television.

* * *

'We'll pick you up at six tomorrow,' a now tired Harry told Michael, when they delivered the children back at the vicarage after what had been a very long day.

There was to be no repeat performance of the previous evening, they were in a word knackered, having spent an entire day with three children. One would be enough decided Harry. I couldn't possibly cope with more than one thought Ruth. They were batting off the same hymn sheet, although as yet it was subject on both their 'to be discussed at later date lists.' Spooned together with the curtains open, something that Harry still needed because of his weeks in total darkness in the US, he fell asleep, whilst Ruth lay there with memories of a wonderful day, breathing him in and glorifying in their newly found closeness and his arm that was wrapped around her. Keeping her safe, he called it.

* * *

'Remember, I expect you to behave yourselves,' Rose reminded her offspring, for a second time in as many hours, as she showed her mother where to find the number of the hotel if there was a problem, knowing full well that their grandparents let them get away with murder when they were babysitting but that at least it wore them out.

In a second conversation that Ruth had managed to grab with Catherine whilst Harry had been in the shower, she now knew that with a bit of persuasion from the ever inventive Malcolm, that not only was Harry going to meet his wayward son, but that he and Catherine had been booked into a small guest house that was almost adjacent to their hotel. Just when they were going to make an appearance and whether or not they'd booked themselves in as members of the clergy, who seemed to make up most of the guest list or just plain Graham and Catherine Pearce/Townsend, she had no idea. All she did know was that Catherine had apparently in her words, got the situation under control and Ruth didn't doubt it.

'So what's it to be Ruth or Susan?' Michael asked her with a grin, as they walked from the car park and into the warmth of the hotel with just over an hour to go before dinner.

'Ruth,' said Harry emphatically.

'Are they really all members of the clergy?' a disbelieving Ruth asked Michael, when two hours later the four of them were sitting in a quiet corner away from the dance floor and watching the last of several dances which Harry was describing as terrifying.

'Its tradition, they'll calm down later,' Michael re assured her, going on to explain that in their far flung diocese that stretched the length and breadth of the Highlands, that there was still a lot of clan rivalry, which was enacted at the start of each convention.

'Christ,' said Harry but quietly, avoiding the melee in front of him and going to the bar for another round of drinks. His whole evening had been built on his need to dance with Ruth and his impatience was starting to build. They'd had a wonderful meal but enough was enough and he never imagined that he'd have to wait this long.

Ruth was just grateful that Harry hadn't worn a kilt otherwise he might have been dragged into the so called re-enactment..

At what Rose explained to Ruth was half time the room suddenly calmed and the small band headed out for their break. Ruth wanted to ask Rose what happened next, she also wanted Harry to ask her to dance, despite the fact that she thought she was rubbish when it came to dancing. There was no one there that would know them, there would be no prying eyes or chatter behind their backs as she'd feared when they'd attended functions in London. Seven years and she'd never danced with Harry, how was that even possible? Zaf and Jo, Adam and Ros, even as far back as Tom and Christine Dale had danced together in front of them and then quite probably ended up in bed, and what had they done? They'd watched on hesitant and stupid. Well not tonight, it was their turn, especially with Harry dressed as he was and walking back towards her, with his I really need to hold you look on his face.

'Shall we?' asked Michael, holding out his hand to his wife, leaving Harry and Ruth alone and teetering on the brink.

'Ruth,' was said almost in a whisper as the music changed. There were no flying kilts or flashing swords, in fact from where Ruth was sitting with Harry standing in front of her holding out his hand, the room was completely empty bar them. As he had done on the endless occasions in his dreams, Harry took Ruth's hand and walked as steadily as his now pounding heart would let him to the centre of the floor and took her in his arms.

' _There could never be a Portrait of my love'_ sang Harry in Ruth's ear, surprising well in tune with Matt Monroe. It was from his era and old fashioned it might be, but it said everything that he had ever felt about Ruth and he'd asked Michael if he could arrange with the hotel that they'd play it. He was in heaven and Ruth was there with him, as for the next two minutes and forty seven seconds as Matt continued to sing, hazel and blue eyes shone, each into the other in the darkness, their owners oblivious to those that were dancing around them. Finally against all the odds, they were where they were destined to be and they both knew it.

If Harry had asked her there and then to marry him, she'd have said yes, in fact she'd have said yes to anything that he asked of her. Except that he didn't, he'd learnt his lesson. His things to ask and do on his _Ruth bucket list_ were endless and number one was sufficient for tonight, well that and what he planned later in their room.

* * *

On the periphery of the room Catherine and Graham stood watching. Catherine had made no plans to intrude on their fathers and Ruth's evening, but Graham had insisted that he wanted to know what Ruth looked like before he met her the following day. Matt had reached the last line of the song and apart from watching what was happening in the middle of room, Catherine had got one eye on Graham who was flexing his hands.

'I thought you said he was at death's door?' he hissed at her, having just watched his father kiss Ruth.

'He was and Ruth's the only reason that he's not, I've explained that,' she said equally forcefully, dragging Graham back to the foyer where the receptionist was anxiously waiting for them. They certainly weren't dressed for a dinner dance and it had taken all Catherine's guile to persuade the poor man that they be allowed to take a quick peep to ensure that they'd got the right hotel, because they're been a cracking on the line she'd lied to him, when they'd spoken to their father earlier. Catherine had known from her conversation with Ruth exactly where they had been going and that they were going to stay overnight. It was New Year's Eve for goodness sake, it was what people who loved each other did and she would have been doing the same, if hers and Graham's circumstances hadn't changed. None the less she was as curious as Graham was to see what Ruth looked like having only previously seen her in her father's much fingered photo. Now that she had, she wished that she'd have more time to get to know her.

* * *

Ruth couldn't remember the last time that she'd been awake at midnight on New Year's Eve. Wherever she'd been, other than during her time at Cambridge, she'd always managed to find an excuse to go to bed early and to avoid it. People who you didn't like and even people that you didn't know seemed to assume that it gave them carte blanche to kiss you and until tonight and on one other occasion when she fancied a fellow student who in the end had turned out to be a lying bastard, she'd avoided it like the plague. Tonight though it was different and without her even realising it, Harry had managed to manoeuvre them to a dark corner of the room and away from the now rowdy group of supposed vicars who were working their way through the countdown.

'Four, three two,' he whispered in her ear seductively, his breath ghosting across her cheek, just as it had done on a day so long ago on the grid. He'd wanted her then and she him, but they'd held back for reasons that she no longer remembered. The rules that they'd set themselves, if that's what they were no longer applied, as here on what was for both of them a special night he never reached one, because he was kissing her and she was responding. The stairs and a large and comfortable bed beckoned and they flew up them at a speed that belied their ages.

Clothes went flying abandoned to the floor, shoes were kicked off to who knows where and any bruises that Harry might have had or Ruth might have worried about had been left on the dance floor, as at the start of a new year which promised so much, Harry was giving Ruth everything he had. Ruth on her part had melted the moment that he'd unzipped her dress, she'd never felt like this, she felt wanton, she didn't care. Stars were playing across the ceiling, her head was going to burst she felt sure of it as with ever touch of his fingers and his lips, he built her up to another climax until finally he was inside her.

* * *

Completely and utterly spent, neither of them had said a word or could remember going to sleep until they woke up the following morning and saw the room and their clothes strewn around the floor.

'Sorry about that,' said Harry, apologising unnecessarily for having lost control and worried that perhaps he'd upset her.

'I'm not,' she grinned at him as she dragged herself out of bed and went in search of her dressing gown and the kettle. For Ruth, her definition of the best sex she'd ever had which in her case until a week ago had been limited, had reached whole new proportions and she really didn't know how she was going to face Michael and Rose at what was already a late breakfast. There was no chance that she'd be able to skip it because it was Harry's favourite meal of the day especially in a hotel, she'd learnt that at Havensworth, but for a completely different reason.

Harry had no such concerns as they walked into an almost empty dining room with the various clans still asleep after their exertions of the previous evening.

'Good morning,' he said breezily, pulling out Ruth's chair for her to sit down as the waitress approached them to take their order. His order was simple, he was hungry and rather than have the attention drawn to her, Ruth ordered the same. She didn't eat cooked breakfasts she never had done, but it had been a twenty four hours of firsts and by the look of Rose's plate she'd had one, so why not Ruth thought. Rose wasn't Ros and she was pleased to see Ruth positively glowing, she also knew better than to make any uncalled for remarks. Michael was oblivious to most things that went on around him unless it involved one of his parishioners or his children, so breakfast came and went without embarrassment before they headed back upstairs to pack and then drive home.

* * *

Less than fifty yards away, Catherine and Graham were also eating their equally enjoyable breakfast in far less salubrious surroundings, discussing the day ahead. She'd left the dinner dance the previous evening determined that by the time that she and Graham met Ruth for the first time that there would be no animosity on his part. They had a father that they could so easily have lost, had it not been for the efforts of his friends and the obvious mutual adoration that they witnessed the previous evening. Before she and Graham said goodbye to them for what would be a minimum of a year, she was determined that her father and Ruth knew that they had their blessing.


	14. Chapter 14

Ruth was upstairs by design and supposedly unpacking as she waited for the possibility of confrontation when the doorbell rang. They were his family not hers and however disjointed, she wanted to be well out of the way when Harry opened the door.

'Catherine, sweetheart,' she heard, imagining the smile that was lighting up Harry's face and then nothing, no mention of Graham so now what? She had to go down.

The room looked like something out of a dreadful movie set, with Harry standing by the window and staring at his son with an uncontrollable sadness in his eyes, and Graham, ramrod straight with his back to the door looking like an ornament that had been put in the wrong place. Catherine for once appeared unable to help. Over to me then Ruth thought.

'I'll make us some coffee Harry,' she suggested as cheerfully as she could manage, trying to defuse the tinderbox that was standing in front of her and for want of anything better to say, as the two statues that were standing on either side of the room moved as if by magic and Catherine escaped on her heels into the kitchen.

They didn't need introducing they needed some light relief from what was happening or rather not happening next door and in a mutual need to find it, Harry became the catalyst. While Ruth filled the kettle and Catherine reached for the mugs and the coffee that was on a shelf in front of her the ice was broken, as Catherine said thank you and then confessed to her that she and Graham had seen them dancing together the previous evening, which had contributed to his current mood.

'I tried to stop him and make him wait until this morning, but he's stubborn just like …' Ruth finished the sentence for her.

She also wondered at what point they'd seen them dancing, but decided against asking.

'Dad was so ill and unhappy when they brought him home from the States,' Catherine continued, completely changing the subject, 'I really thought he was going to die and to look at him now, it's unbelievable.'

Ruth could have told Catherine that she'd had years of experience in pulling Harry back from the depths of despair and compared to those, that this had been a cake walk in the park. As it was, she just told her that most of it was down to Harry and that she'd just carried on with the good job that Catherine herself had started, including getting him to throw off the shackles when it came to what he wore.

Yes and you're being too modest thought Catherine.

'It's a case of wrap up to survive at times it gets so cold here and to hell with what you look like. Not only that I was an outsider when I arrived, so I was determined to blend in and I'm sure that it's helped.'

She said nothing about her time in Cyprus and that she'd had plenty of practice at blending in, she had no idea how much if anything Harry had told Catherine about their relationship or non - relationship as it had been then. Once Graham was on his way, she hoped that Catherine would stay on for a while to spend some time with Harry and that she'd have an opportunity to get to know her better.

* * *

By the time that they went back into the sitting room, Graham had seemingly rediscovered how to use his legs and had made his way across the room and was sitting on one of the chairs that were either side of the fire, with Harry at one end of the sofa. Progress Ruth thought as she put the tray down in front of Harry and handed round the coffees.

'Graham this is Ruth my ….,' please don't say anything to provoke him, thought Ruth and Catherine as Harry floundered and Graham surprised everyone especially Ruth, by standing up and leaning over to shake her hand.

For now at least there was a modicum of normal, as Ruth took over again and went on to tell them how she been coerced into taking the job at the school, the Christmas concert which she'd ultimately enjoyed despite feeling so nervous and the new friends that she and Harry had made. She made a special point of not mentioning their day out with the children and how much Harry had enjoyed it. His own children were the priority and she could see that Graham was still far from comfortable.

'Against all the odds I really like living here, despite there being little else to do,' saw Harry's eyebrows raising and beginnings of a smile at a now emotionally exhausted Ruth, as he saved her from digging herself into an even bigger hole by taking over the conversation and telling his children that in an attempt to regain his fitness, Ruth had persuaded him that he should take up walking.

'I've got the boots to prove it,' he added, 'we could go for a walk later if you'd like to,' he suggested, looking directly to Graham. Harry was trying so hard to make a breakthrough, it was cripplingly obvious and every one of them realised it.

It wasn't until after lunch that any mention was made as to how long Catherine and Graham planned on staying or more precisely where, but there had been no talk about the reason for their visit. Ruth knew of course and she'd had a word with Catherine, asking her to give Harry a couple of days to adjust to having Graham around and to allow him to attempt rebuild their relationship.

* * *

Unbeknown to any of them, Graham was playing a now unwanted part, struggling to maintain the hard man persona that had protected him over the years. With only a few days to go until his flight back to Canada, he felt a desperate need to get to know the father that he had never really understood before it was too late.

Catherine had told him that she'd seen him at death's door and that had frightened him, suddenly aware that the father that he had believed to be indestructible wasn't, and if anything happened to him when he was on the other side of the world that he never would. So with more than a nudge from Catherine and an encouraging nod from Ruth, he and Harry eventually donned their boots and headed out of the door and across the fields towards the sea.

The animosity that he had presumed he would feel towards Ruth had dissipated almost as soon as she'd smiled at him. How could it not. Her enthusiasm when she talked about her life on the island which now included his father was infectious, she was beautiful in an understated way and she clearly loved the man that was walking along -side him.

He'd always envied Catherine her ability to forgive him and having spent so much more time with him, but most of all he hated himself for being such an idiot. It was just that he didn't know how to change it. His chance was to come far sooner than he imagined as Harry who was striding along wearing the aforementioned boots, had a far better grip on the snow than Graham who was wearing Harry's now discarded wellies. As he stepped down from a style that took them onto the coastal path, he was briefly distracted by the view of the sea in front of him and missed his footing.

His father reacted as he would have done whoever had been slipping. The fact that it was Graham was irrelevant until he looked up into the eyes of his son who was clinging to him for dear life. Had they not been alone there would have been a very good chance that they'd have broken apart, but as it was neither of them let go, it was a life-changing moment for both of them.

I'm sorry Dad,' said Graham, still holding on.

'No need,' said Harry, closing his eyes and breathing him in, the man that he now was but hadn't held since he'd been a young boy, wishing that Ruth had been with him to share this moment.

For the next hour by which time the light had begun to fade, they walked on, Harry telling him that he was done with his life in the security services and had made the decision to retire. He answered each and every one of Graham's questions including those about Ruth. How he had known her for what felt like forever. How for the most ridiculous of reasons, they'd held back from what should have already been a long standing home life together and that he planned to change that. Whatever Ruth wanted was his priority and that he loved her. That wasn't to say that he hadn't loved their mother because he had, but sometimes things happen that send people on a different path and his had led him to Ruth.

'Everything,' he told him, when Graham asked him to describe in a single word, what Ruth meant to him. Graham knew what he meant, but Catherine had told him that he had to wait before he explained that.

* * *

By the time they arrived home, Catherine and Ruth had made up the beds in the two smaller of the bedrooms and were in the kitchen preparing dinner.

'Boots off or we'll get a bollocking,' said Harry grinning when then stood in the porch taking off their coats. Harry then walking straight into the kitchen and kissing Ruth albeit briefly, sent a clear message that whilst they'd been out that something positive had happened. Graham had visibly relaxed and as Ruth and Catherine dished up the food, he offered to lay the table whilst Harry poured a couple of beers and opened a bottle of wine.

'Dad and I have chatted and I've stopped being an arse,' he whispered to his sister.

Ruth, very much involved and in her mind no longer an outsider sat and listened, as Catherine and Graham told stories from the days that they had spent on holiday with their parents. She felt no animosity towards Jane, it had been a mutual decision that she and Harry parted company, something that he had never talked about until now and it was abundantly clear that Graham had cleared the air with his father. Their memories much as hers now were, were of days when the sun never stopped shining and the sea was always blue. Was that even possible, they thought not. As she sat and watched them, she tried to picture a younger Harry desperately trying to be a good father and at the same time, balance that with the all-consuming and dangerous work life. It must have been virtually impossible. Even Adam and Fiona who had loved each other had ultimately paid the price and left Wes an orphan. These though were maudlin thoughts and she needed to put them to bed or they'd drag her down, so despite feeling desperately tired she needed to stay strong for the next couple of days to guide Harry through what she knew would be a difficult time.

Bedtime finally came and with it an unexpected kiss goodnight for Ruth from both Catherine and Graham, as Harry banked up the fire before they headed up the stairs. There could be no repeat of the previous night's performance neither of them had an ounce of energy left and even if they had, with Harry's two children sleeping but a stone's throw away, Harry wanted something to be left to their imagination he told her. The curtains were open as they always were, the clear sky that was teeming with stars promised a cold night and another cold day, but neither of them cared. For now until the morning they were as physically close as they had been since the previous evening and they needed it so much.

'I told Graham that I love you,' Harry told her across the inches that separated them, as they lay facing each other with their legs entwined and their hands in each other's hair.

'And do you?' Ruth teased him, snuggling closer until their bodies were touching, warm and comfortable and ready for sleep.

'Kiss me goodnight and I'll show you how much in the morning if you promise not to giggle,' was how they fell asleep.

* * *

They had no particular plans for the following day other than perhaps driving around the island and then finding a pub somewhere to have lunch. A phone call from Rose changed that, when the children were delivered as they were eating breakfast.

'I'm so sorry to do this to you,' Rose apologised un-necessarily, 'but Michael's spending the morning with an elderly parishioner whose husband died overnight and I've got an appointment in Stornoway that I can't alter.

'Pancakes anyone?' Catherine asked the three expectant faces that were staring at the contents of Harry's plate.

'Yes please with jam,' answered Graham, joining the party.

For the remainder of the morning and after another call from Rose to say that could they possibly hang on to the children until mid-afternoon Graham came into his own, astounding Harry with his ability to cope with the children. As Catherine dragged the sledge to the top of the hill for the umpteenth time with Robert, Graham organised the building of another snowman, a snowball fight that was directed entirely at his father and Ruth, who between supplying hot drinks and snacks, had been cuddled up on the porch under a blanket together watching the scene that had been unfolding.

Gone was the morose young man that had been standing behind his sister when Harry had opened the door the previous morning. He was happy and so clearly at home.

Ruth saw it as the perfect opening for Graham to have that oh so important chat with his father and told him so. She knew that she'd have to pick up the pieces later, but hopefully Harry would be able to hold it together until Graham had gone home. With small children in the house it would relieve the pressure for her and Catherine, so with a board game in front of them she delivered some sandwiches and steaming coffee to the father and son that were sitting under the porch.

Neither she nor Catherine could concentrate, but it didn't matter. It was one of those simple board games, that even if you weren't playing, you could step in at any time.

* * *

'I have to be honest, if it hadn't been for Catherine pestering me, I wouldn't be here,' Graham told him, going on to explain that via a friend of a friend, he'd been offered a job in Canada three years ago and that he was now a Canadian citizen.

'It was by chance that I met Lucy who I'm now living with, it wasn't as though I was looking for a relationship,' he went on to tell his astounded father, 'What I really need to tell you and I'm so sorry that I've kept it from you for so long is this,' he said, producing a photograph of himself holding the hand of a small girl with pigtails as bright as the sun, 'I have a daughter and she's called Alice.'

Harry momentarily stopped breathing and as hard as tried to control the tears that had already been building behind his eyes, the dam broke and he sobbed uncontrollably unable to do anything about it.

A now concerned Graham ploughed on.

'I promise you that Catherine didn't know either, until Malcolm came up with an email address and she contacted me and told me what had happened to you,' was something that Harry needed to hear, as he rubbed his hand across his eyes and delved in his pocket for a handkerchief, 'I am truly sorry Dad,' he told him again, as Harry gazed at his granddaughter and then asked him if they'd told Ruth.

'That I've been living in Canada with Lucy yes, but not about Alice. Catherine told her a couple of days ago, but I made them both swear that they wouldn't tell you, because I needed to do that myself,' wasn't strictly true, but again it was what he needed his father to hear.

Canada was a beautiful country and relatively safe compared to some places in the world and he intended staying there. They lived several miles from the outskirts of Ottawa in the countryside, where at times the weather was even colder than it was here and that he hoped that Harry and of course Ruth would come to visit them, concluded a conversation that left Harry in pieces, shivering and speechless and Graham relieved to have got through it. There would be time for more rebuilding later, enough was enough for today as Graham with his hand around his father's shoulder helped him inside.

* * *

Catherine and Graham offered to take the children home, leaving Harry some time and space with Ruth, to come to terms with what he had been told and to tell her that he was a granddad. In the blink of an eye they had another option for their future, but for now Harry desperately needed to be with Ruth on his own, and his children recognised that and closed the door behind them.


	15. Chapter 15

It was less than a minute after Catherine and Graham had left with the children that Ruth stood contemplating, not for the first time, why their combined lives were like living on a perpetual roller coaster.

'Leave him,' she'd said to his children, as he'd stared at the photo, his hand shaking.

Could she leave him on his own, no she couldn't, because the stupid man would stay out there and freeze to death rather than admit that he'd wanted her to go with him.

Searching through the cupboards she found the thermos, made some coffee and added a large measure from the yet to be opened bottle of whisky, before heading out into the darkness to where she knew he'd be sitting. Determined that she'd take the initiative and not let him wallow wasn't going to be easy, but before that, she had to negotiate the icy pathway in the dark, struggling not only under the burden of the flask and mugs that she was carrying, but Harry's hat, scarf and gloves which he'd left behind. Cursing as she slipped whilst swerving to avoid the large planter that Harry had fallen over on the evening that he'd arrived, she rounded the side of the house and put her possessions on the table in front of him. He moved, a hand snaked out, but only to reach for his hat.

'Don't give me that _I want to be alone_ rubbish Harry,' she said dramatically, knowing that he'd pick up on the quote, before she sat down bedside him and poured them both a drink.

She'd invested in a small outside store where she kept rugs, cushions and a few other outdoorsy odds and ends, so it wasn't long before she wrapped herself and a now less freezing Harry from head to foot. This was lunacy and she suspected that Harry thought so too, although it did feel somewhat romantic snuggled together like a couple of naughty teenagers behind a bike shed, rather than sitting indoors by the fire which was what sensible people did. Well it was too late now, if they sat there all night so be it. They needed to talk this through and she was determined to stick it out until they came to some sort of decision.

'There's whisky in it,' brought the glimmer of a smile that was trying to mask the single tear that was running down his face as she topped up his coffee, but still nothing by way of a response. She waited patiently, with a myriad of ideas floating around in her head, as Harry continued to stare into the distance. It was like pulling teeth, she tried again.

'It's not as good as the High Point is it, but it cuts down on the walking,' had his resistance, or to anyone who didn't love him belligerence, dissipating. But Ruth did love him, more than she'd ever loved another living soul and she was prepared to do anything to ease his pain.

'There's always a solution Harry,' she said gently as his hands searched for hers under the blankets, 'we just need to talk this through.'

She was more than willing to put aside her own desire to accept the offer that Rose had made, and suggest instead that after a few weeks they follow Graham back to Canada. It wasn't what she wanted and it certainly wouldn't have been her first choice, but this wasn't about her it was about Harry and his ability to get see Alice grow up. What she hadn't anticipated was his reaction when she suggested it.

No was his emphatic answer. She'd made enough sacrifices for him. He wanted to meet Alice of course he did, but he'd listened to what she'd told Catherine and Graham, how against all the odds she was happy here and for the first time in her life she felt as though she belonged. He also knew that she'd been offered the job at the school and that she wanted to take it, Rose had told him, and schools had holidays, long ones and they could go to Canada then.

'So why are we sitting out here then?' she asked him, tucking the rugs more tightly round their legs.

'It was a shock, I'm fine now, really.'

For all his bravado, Ruth knew it to be more than that, she'd had seen it dozens of times over the years, when he'd tried to tell her that it was just the wind or made some other excuse rather than admit he was upset. Now though it was different, it was personal and it involved family and for the first time ever she could make a real difference. She tried again, pleading the case that she didn't believe in and telling him that Canada was a better option.

'Rubbish,' he responded, 'that was then, this is different. We're at the start of a new life together with no outside influences or pressures to determine what we do. We're ordinary people for the first time in our lives and most importantly I can keep you safe. What we have now is what I've always wanted, so we'll stay here and make a home together and then when we're ready for a break, the first place that we'll visit will be Canada,' was almost certainly the most impassioned speech he'd ever made when he'd been talking about them and far more effective than a proposal in a graveyard. Ruth kissed him, how could she not.

* * *

Rose had sent Catherine and Graham back with one of her meat pies, some veg and a trifle by way of a thank you for looking after the children and by the time that Harry and Ruth arrived back indoors, the table was already laid.

'Only when the vicarage takeaway is closed,' Ruth joked, when Graham asked them, 'if they ever cooked?'

'I thought maybe we could go out for the day tomorrow and find a pub or something,' Harry chipped in. It was the obvious solution on what would be Graham's last day and there was an unspoken understanding that it was what Harry needed.

'Tell us more about Lucy and Alice?' He bravely threw into the conversation some time later, opening another bottle and topping up their glasses.

While Graham relayed the story about how he had met Lucy and although it wasn't planned, Alice had arrived eleven months later, Ruth held tight to Harry's hand, a lifeline when he needed it. It didn't matter that his children were watching them, she was offering him support at a time when he was warring between happiness and a deep sorrow and all of them knew it.

'I should have come to London earlier, as soon as Cath rang, but it was Christmas and I just couldn't leave them, I'm sorry Dad,' Graham continued, going on to tell them that he would ask Malcolm to set up a secure link as soon as he got home, so that Harry could see and talk to Alice. 'She's always known that she has an English grandad, Lucy made sure I told her, she insisted actually, but I'll have someone else to tell her about when I get home won't I,' was said with real sincerity and a maturity that had so far been lacking, as he made sure that Ruth didn't feel side-lined in this new situation. Graham had come of age and was the man that his father had always wanted him to be and he loved him all the more for it.

Disjointed not anymore, just different, Ruth decided was a better description, as they left the washing up until the morning and settled down with their coffees around the fire. Tired and having drunk more than he had in weeks, Harry immediately fell asleep with his head at one end of the sofa and his feet in Ruth's lap, leaving her alone with the opportunity to tell his children their decision and to explain why.

'It's a joint decision,' she told them. 'We're done with running and if we stay here we'll be safe and able to lead the quiet life together that we both want, whereas if we come to Canada or even go back to England, there will always be the chance that we'll become vulnerable again,' going on to explain to Graham what Catherine already knew, about the heaven knows how many times they'd been parted by people that had wanted to harm Harry. 'I nearly lost him this time and I can't let that happen again and I promise you both from the bottom of my heart, that I'll look after him for you,' was a really difficult for Ruth to say, given that she'd had a stress filled evening and was talking to his children.

'Tea,' suggested Catherine, seeing the emotion on Ruth's face and stepping in to help her. They'd all shed enough tears for one day and besides, it was nearly bedtime.

'We've got no doubts that you're both more than capable of looking after each other, we saw the dance,' came from Graham with a grin, 'I don't suppose you'd give us a repeat performance before we go home?'

'Not on your life,' said a sleepy voice from the depths of a cushion, as Catherine walked back in and asked what she'd missed.

* * *

They purposely avoided Stornoway, all of them mindful of how difficult the following day was going to be. Catherine rang Callum apologising that she'd be away longer than she'd expected, but Ruth had persuaded her that her Dad needed her for a short while longer and besides which she knew that Callum was busy. Yes Ruth was fine, the house was lovely with glorious views of the sea and Skye in the distance, was something that he could pass on to their ex colleagues, but nothing more. Ruth and her Dad were to be left alone. He could tell Malcolm that Harry would be in touch direct, to offer him that glimpse of the Highlands that he'd always craved and that to him alone, Ruth sent her love.

The pub was warm and welcoming and despite the fact that it appeared to be miles from anywhere and without directions from a local they would never have found it, surprisingly busy. It had a damn good menu was Harry's summation, but nobody mentioned anything about takeaways or another excuse not to cook. To all intents and purposes it was just another day, except that it wasn't and they were all keeping a watchful eye on Harry. With Ruth driving and Harry for a change the passenger, they took the side road around the coast to the headland and to the beach where they had taken the children, stopping briefly to look at the view, before they drove home.

The goodbye that was inevitable and difficult for all of them, saw Harry getting what he wanted by driving Graham to the airport on his own. Ruth's last words as she kissed Graham goodbye, were that he promise her that he would contact Malcolm to get that link set up, so that they Harry could talk to Alice and that whatever happened that she'd make sure that they'd come to visit them at Easter. Maybe next Christmas, she thought to herself we can have a real family party.

'You ring me as soon as you're on your way back, promise,' she said kissing Harry, before turning back into the house to join Catherine. Harry was a pragmatist and she knew that once he got the call to say that Graham had arrived home safely that he'd start to cheer up, but in the short term she was relieved that Catherine would be there to chivvy him.

* * *

An abundance of love and the fact that he wasn't given time to feel maudlin got Harry through the next few days, as Ruth and Catherine went on a _keep Harry busy_ offensive that involved a day out with Rose and the children, walking and then finally a complete sort out of the house that was now jointly his, deciding what if any changes they should make, to turn it from a holiday home into a permanent one. Stornoway was explored until he dropped, as he finally conceded defeat, allowing himself to be dragged along by two women, in search items that up until then he hadn't known he needed. Ruth was tenacious to a fault as she threw everything she had into making Harry happy. He discovered the benefits of home cooking as Ruth mastered the kitchen and fed him anything he wanted, he was allowed to drink albeit in moderation and when it came to bedtime, well the world was his oyster.

They made a list of the personal things that had been left at both Harry's house and Ruth's flat, so that when she got home, she and Callum could arrange to ship them, although there was only one thing that Harry really wanted and in pursuit of that he turned to Catherine for advice, on the evening before she flew back to London.

'I've never been very good when it comes to romance,' he told her, as she listened on incredulously, but refrained from saying anything negative when he told her about his botched proposal. Phrases like 'oh for Christ's sake Dad' and 'at a funeral' were held back in an effort to explain to him, that if it was her that they were talking about and it had been Callum that had done the asking, then he'd have been told in no uncertain terms where to put it. 'It's a miracle that Ruth's still with you, but it's a measure of how much she really loves you,' she told him.

Ruth was in the bath, doing her ' _leave Harry alone with his children act_ , for the second time in as many days, so Catherine took the bull by the horns and ploughed on.

'Ruth's told me about her time with Nico,' she wants a baby Dad and she wants one with you, it's as simple as that.'

'A baby,' said Harry as though the concept was alien to him and that he'd never considered it. 'Has she said so?'

'Of course she hasn't, but Rory and Maisie, even Robert. Come on Dad, surely you've noticed the way that she changes when the children are here, it's obvious.'

'And you, what would you and Graham think?'

Catherine could hear the water from the bath disappearing and that the radio had been turned off and that gave her about ten minutes before Ruth would appear back downstairs. Had her Dad always been this blind to the obvious on a personal level, she suspected he had.

'It's not as though you're not getting enough practice, we've heard you,' was said more from frustration that an attempt to embarrass him, 'so get your head out of the sand and do something about it. Graham and I aren't children any more, it doesn't matter what we think, but if it's important that you know, then yes we'd be happy for you,' she wanted to shout at him but didn't.

'Hi,' said the subject of their conversation, walking back into the room with freshly towelled hair and smelling gorgeous, as Catherine raised her eyebrows and whispered 'get on with it.'

* * *

As soon as the new term started Ruth went back to the school. One day she taught music and the other as the new school secretary she did whatever was thrown at her. She maintained records, dealt with purchases and kept balanced the precarious budget that enabled the school to function. The parents were delighted, they had someone that they could rely on to answer their questions or concerns, and their children's school that had been rudderless was flourishing. She'd once told Malcolm when describing her life in Cyprus that she was happy, but it had been eclipsed a hundredfold by what she had now. At the end of each and every day whatever she'd been doing, Harry was there waiting for her and whatever she wanted he gave her.

Two weeks after Catherine had flown home their belongings had arrived. Her most precious books and Harry's antiquated sound system and records which he could so easily have listened to on line, but didn't. Photos and small mementos from their past lives that would help them turn their new house into a home. Any traces that it might have once belonged to Dolby were slowly despatched, as they chose paint colours together and then on the days when Ruth went to work Harry redecorated. They shopped in Stornoway replacing the bedding and the curtains with those of their own choice. The contents of the kitchen cupboards and drawers they donated to the next village jumble sale, there was nothing wrong with them but they were an every- day reminder of how they'd come to be there.

Life was as close to perfect as it could be, until three months later, just before the start of the school's Easter holidays and three weeks before Ruth's birthday.

It was early April and Catherine was planning a visit. Harry being Harry and the maker of impossible decisions in his previous life had delayed asking Ruth to marry him. Not because he didn't want to, but because when he did, he wanted it to be perfect. He'd shown no such reticence with regard to Catherine's other instruction, but there'd been no whisper of a new baby.

Although it was still necessary to keep the fires burning, the island which had been snow covered for months had been transformed by a covering of spring flowers and with them the promise of warmer weather. It was a bright sunny day with visibility as far as the eye could see and Ruth had been sitting in her small office at the school, when Michael had walked in and with him a policeman.

In the weeks that were to come, whilst the community slowly came to terms with what had happened, there was still no explanation as to why the accident had happened and lives had been changed forever.


	16. Chapter 16

As she always did on days when they were blessed with sunshine, Ruth had walked to school, taking in the view and breathing in the crystal clear air. Marvelling at the completeness that she now felt and that at the end of the day Harry would be there, a safe harbour to come home to and telling her that he loved her. Those precious first few moments when they woke after a night's sleep which had always been special, had become the bedrock of each and every day as they'd grown into and developed their relationship. She'd never been this happy and a day never passed when she didn't acknowledge it.

* * *

Now though, needing to compose herself and change into something more comfortable than her work clothes, she had briefly popped home. Relieved beyond anything else to have escaped the stricken faces, but safe in the knowledge that Michael, despite the awfulness of the news that he had to impart would find the words that none other than someone with his training could find, she let out a breath that up until now she hadn't realised she'd been holding.

'Any time day or night,' she'd heard him say to the latest of the parents who had arrived to collect their offspring, offering himself as a lifeline should they need one, to deal with the inevitable questions which up to now they didn't have answers.

The drive across the headland on such a beautiful spring morning would normally have filled her with joy at the promise of things to come, but driving a car that she'd never driven, knowing that before she reached the main road that she'd be diverted to avoid the crash scene, she felt anything but joyous. She felt sad, she felt disorientated and almost angry with herself that she was still alive. She needed Harry.

'Where are you?' she pleaded into her phone.

She tried the radio, no it wasn't a glorious day across Scotland it was a mind-blowingly awful one. She turned it off, she needed to concentrate. She'd be no use to him if she was like this.

'Where is he?' she almost spat as she finally reached the front of the queue, fighting the urge to scream such was her frustration at finding the car park full and then having being kept waiting. 'No I'm not a relative, I wouldn't be here if he had any, I'm his teacher,' she emphasised, brandishing the short letter that Michael had written. She'd never been the subject of _a 'To whom it might concern letter,'_ and she wished to God that she wasn't now. But he needed someone that he could rely on he'd told her, apologising that Rose couldn't go with her but that she needed to stay at home to look after their own.

Walking as fast as her now trembling legs would carry her, she stumbled along a maze of bland corridors until she finally found it, deep in the heart of the hospital. It was divided into a dozen or so cubicles, sterile to the point where even the outside of the windows appeared to be gleaming in the morning sunshine. The nurses one on one with their patients, floated in an ethereal world like silent angels, walking between their work stations and the beds where the machines and medicines were keeping their recipients alive. Terrified as to what she was going to find, she brandished her letter for a second time and was ushered the short distance to where Thomas was lying, her eyes instantly drawn to the tiny card in its holder at the head of his bed. Thomas Robertson, aged six, and where it should have said next of kin _none,_ only the contact number of the vicarage. It was stark in its bluntness, but it said everything about this tiny mite, that only four months ago had been so full of life when he'd been dressed as a sheep, his Mum so proud of him.

'Hold his hand if you want to,' the nurse who introduced herself as Isabel told her, as Ruth stood hesitantly beside his bed. 'I'll fetch you a drink of water and then we'll sit and chat about how he is.'

* * *

Harry had driven into Stornoway early. He still preferred the early morning to any other time of day and today he was on a mission. His soul aim was to find the still illusive birthday present for Ruth, knowing that once the school broke up that he'd have little chance of her not being with him. He wished he hadn't left it until the last minute and as always he wished he was better when it came to making romantic gestures. He was also on the search for a restaurant, but more than that he was still dithering. Ruth wasn't someone that enjoyed fuss, she almost ran from it, so if he bought what he wanted to, then he knew he'd have to ask her in advance of the evening. Get on with it Catherine had told him and with her due to arrive the day after Ruth's birthday, he'd be able to avoid a tongue lashing if he had.

Looking at his watch, purely because he was feeling hungry, he temporarily delayed his shopping and instead went in search of a late breakfast and with it the opportunity to have a word with Ruth and convince her that he was still in the DIY store. It was close to eleven so she'd be on her morning break and as such would be sitting in her office. Thinking nothing of the fact that he'd left his phone turned off, he was horrified to see that he had three messages, one from Ruth 'Harry, please pick up I need you,' the rest a variation of 'please ring me, it's urgent,' from Michael.'

To him that meant only one thing, that something dreadful had happened to Ruth. Abandoning the idea of breakfast, he fairly fled from the café and dialled.

Less emotionally involved and far more used to dealing with persons who fell into the _I'm in charge here_ category, who in this case was the forty something bespectacled receptionist who had given Ruth a hard time, he was called sir and pointed in the direction of ICU without argument.

'My wife's with him,' had tripped off his tongue as easily as breathing.

Apart from Robert, Rory and Maisie, the remainder of Ruth's little flock as she called them were an unknown, and he'd barely seen any of them other than at the Christmas Party. But he knew without a doubt that each and every one of them she thought special and that what had happened would be devastating.

'She's over there,' said Isabel, pointing to a bed in the corner, as Harry's eyes scanned to room in search of Ruth and the latest heart rending situation in which she now found herself. 'I'll give you a few moments with them and then I'll have to interrupt you I'm afraid, I need to do Thomas's latest obs.'

Ruth had no idea that Michael had contacted Harry, but suddenly he was there, calm and protective and so much more capable than she was feeling as he pulled up a chair and sat next to her.

'He's so tiny,' was all she managed before the tears came.

For two interminably long days and nights, Harry offered his love and unyielding support as Ruth sat by Thomas's bedside, or slept in one of the small rooms attached to paediatrics, steadfastly refusing to leave her post and determined to be there when he woke up. He needed to see a face that he recognised they'd been told and she was going to be it. School was closed, she had nowhere else to be, she was determined and Harry made no attempt to stop her.

Thomas was a remarkably lucky child the consultant had told them and they'd been too weary to argue, although lucky wasn't the word that they would have used. Had the impact of the accident been anything other than head on, he wouldn't have survived. His injuries apart from broken leg and numerous bruises were superficial, but the reason that they were keeping him sedated was because his small body had been shaken like a rag doll and they needed to reduce his pain, before they woke him up. The long term prognosis was promising, but in the short term when he first went home, he would need special and constant care as well as being seen by a child psychologist.

* * *

Harry knew that this situation almost mirrored Ruth's experience with Nico and that both frightened and consoled him, but it fuelled into an idea that grew as the days turned into a week. It all came to a head, when with Michael in attendance they met with a social worker who announced that when Thomas came out of hospital and until he was assessed, he would be taken into care.

Had it not been for Michael's quick and calm intervention and Harry supportive hand on Ruth's back that was tapping out a message telling her not to worry and to leave this to him, who knows what might have happened, instead of which she waited as Michael responded.

'He's six, he was born in our village and he's never been off the island. He attends the village school which has twenty pupils, one of which is my son Rory, his best friend,' she heard Michael saying. 'You cannot possibly be suggesting that he be parcelled off to the mainland, it's inhumane?'

The air froze even further as the social worker ploughed on.

'His age is irrelevant and inhumane is not a word I'd use, besides which it's protocol,' was the outnumbered woman's mistake.

Protocol was a word that had dogged Harry's life and he'd rarely adhered to. Protocol when it came to a six year old child who up to now didn't know that he was an orphan amounted to bollocks and brought Harry, who had been biding his time and one step ahead since the beginning of the meeting, into the conversation.

'Tell me,' he asked, in a voice that Ruth had heard before on endless occasions and demanded an answer, 'what do you proposed to do with Thomas after the assessment?'

'Well after he's been assessed, he'll be put out to foster parents,' sounded more as though she was talking about a pet cat than a child, as Harry felt Ruth wince which was the final straw as he steeled himself against what he felt like saying, which would have seen Thomas on the next ferry.

Would having Thomas come to live with them change their lives, of course it would, would it be easy to adapt to having a small child around, of course it wouldn't, but then when had they ever done anything that was easy? In the last few months when he'd been re organising and redecorating the house, he'd spent hours talking to Alice and as a result had thought about little else other than them having a baby of their own. But he was a realist and given his age it was less likely that it would happen, so why not put this wretched woman in a position where she'd be hard pressed to refuse his request?

'Like us?' wasn't put as a question that could be avoided, as Harry's arm moved from behind Ruth's back to around her shoulders, acknowledged as Ruth moved closer to him and by Michael's encouraging smile.

There was a long pause, during which time Ms whatever her name was shuffled some papers and Harry braced himself for some legitimate reason for her to say no, and with it his but more crucially for Ruth, a rejection.

'That depends?' turned into a conversation that ended with the agreement that provided they met the criteria that was required when they went for the interview, which would require two references, then she didn't see why not and yes she would be on the panel.

Harry again resisted saying what he thought about that, and smiled at her in a way that given the circumstances, was close to his best.

* * *

Ruth didn't have the birthday or the present that Harry had planned. There was no proposal and no ring, they were far too busy. Their interview on the mainland had come and gone with some trepidation and with no decision on the day. Up until then, they'd had no documentation that verified who they were and they certainly hadn't lived in Scotland for long enough to be considered local. A reference from Michael and the fact that he was the local vicar, plus a letter from the still Home Secretary William Towers had come with a glowing reference, in which he confirmed that he had known Harry Pearce and Ruth Evershed for many years, that they had been part of his administrative team and were trustworthy to a fault.

There was a certain amount of pressure on the authorities because Thomas was due to be discharged from the hospital in less than a week and as a small child, they needed to be absolutely certain that he understood what was happening. What was actually going through his mind or how much he remembered about the accident still wasn't clear, but yes he really liked Ruth was born out by the way that he clung to her, when Michael accompanied by the same social worker, told him that he was going to live with her and Harry.

* * *

Michael and Rose had been to Thomas's house and collected his things and with a couple of days to go before he was due to be discharged from hospital had helped Harry and Ruth sort out his bedroom and to shop for their new arrival.

Rory was recruited to become part of discharge day as a distraction from the real situation. He was happy that his best friend was going to be living on his doorstep rather than three miles away, it was D Day minus one and Harry and Ruth were in bed, very early.

'I suppose there's no hope of anything more than a cuddle,' Harry tried, knowing full well that an emotionally and physically knackered Ruth, who was already dropping off to sleep, needed to do just that, as she asked him if he had set the alarm and then disappeared into dreamland. Harry was equally tired but his mind couldn't shut off. Counting sheep, despite the fact that the field outside the window was now filled with lambs as well as their mothers was a pointless exercise, he'd already tried it. When he'd first made the decision about Thomas it had been primarily for Ruth's sake, but that had changed as the days had gone by and he was now equally excited. He'd spoken to both Graham and Catherine and they had their blessing, not that they needed it they'd both emphasised.

Rory had never been to a hospital and asked a hundred and one questions during the journey. His mum had told him that Thomas was still poorly and that he had to behave himself for Harry and Ruth, but that hadn't diluted his vivid imagination and with it his ability, to keep both Harry and Ruth entertained and their minds occupied, rather than worry. They didn't need to call at reception, this time there was no harridan baring their way as with Rory walking between them with his hands grasped tightly in their own, they opened the door to paediatrics. It was the first time since the accident that they had seen Thomas smile, it was the massive first step and they both acknowledged it.

'Wow, what's that and can I have a ride later?' Were just two of the questions that just kept on coming, as Harry pushed the wheelchair along the corridor and out into the car park to load their charges and the luggage. The smallest crutches that Ruth had ever seen, a wheelchair and his friend's leg that was in a cast, with love and kisses from the staff were just a few of the questions that came like a barrage from the irrepressible Rory. As Thomas continued to warm to the situation on the drive home, Harry thanked whoever was out there to listen to him, that Ruth looked so happy.

 _A chapter that is in every sense of the word is fiction, but I hope will evoke a lot of smiles from those of you who know that I would never kill Harry._


	17. Chapter 17

Neither of them had been summoned but both felt an overriding obligation to attend, for no other reason than to hear the truth, as opposed to the inevitable rumours that would follow, and with it to be able to protect Thomas.

'I've lived here all my life and I've never had to attend an inquest,' Michael told Harry, as they drove the route that took them past the crash site that had long since been cleared.

Harry didn't respond. If he had it would have been to tell a lie, he was an expert when it came to inquests. Knowledge was everything, but it wasn't until they were listening to the coroner summing up at the end of the short inquest into the death of Thomas's mother, that he fully understood the significance of his behaviour and his constant need to ask him when he was coming home.

The respectful hum of voices, were stilled in an instant, as the coroner stood to speak. Thomas Robertson's birth certificate listed his father as unknown. Without evidence to prove or disprove it, the following statement would be recorded as an assumption not fact, as to reason that his mother had become reclusive and that apart from when he'd attended school, Thomas had spent no time with other children. Despite this, she'd obviously loved her son and she deserved to be remembered without criticism, because against all the odds and with what amounted to an illness, Thomas had been well looked after.

He then went on to explain that given the time of the crash, there was every indication that she had been late on that particular morning and that her elderly neighbour who employed her to do errands and odds and ends around the house had lent her the car to take Thomas to school. For reasons unknown the car had left the road, there was no proof of intension and again no assumptions should be made. It would be declared a tragic accident and her death be listed as misadventure.

'Having said that,' he concluded, 'the impact on her young son might well be long lasting, but I've been assured that he's being well looked after.'

Michael was shattered by the news, not understanding why Michael's mother hadn't appealed for help. Harry less so, he was just glad that it was over and they could go home, but before that they went in search of a cup of coffee. He knew only too well that if someone felt strongly enough in any situation, that the lengths to which they'd go to protect the ones that they loved were boundless. Whether they were terrorists with a cause or couples with a child, it was inherent in every human being. It was how he'd felt about his own children when they'd been young and now Thomas, and nothing would change that.

'Maybe, but how did we miss it?' was Michael's reference to the community and a question to which Harry didn't have an answer.

'It wasn't your fault Michael,' he heard himself saying, for once the pacifier rather than the guilt ridden. 'She must have believed that Thomas would have been taken away from her if she'd sought help, come on let's go home.'

* * *

'Fine,' said Harry, when Ruth asked him how his morning had gone, in a voice that suggested that he'd been on a shopping trip, as Thomas raced from the kitchen table where he'd been crayoning and handed Harry is latest work of art. In reality Harry felt anything but fine and could have done with a stiff drink, but it was homemade tomato soup or nothing and he needed to brush his concerns under the carpet until later, when he and Ruth were alone. With the patience of a much younger father, a comparison that would have been laughable during his time on the grid, Harry held Thomas high in the air in front of him and then plonked him onto his hip, following Ruth into the garden in pursuit of their lunch.

Free of his cast but far too daring for his own good bearing in mind his recent injuries, they sat back and watched as Thomas made a fruitless attempt to keep in step with a zig zagging butterfly. Boundaries needed to be set, but they needed to be set by him not them, as in essence he learnt how to fly. He clearly loved the outdoors and had learnt to play alone but they could remedy that by inviting his friends, although not just yet. He was their little boy, he needed time as did they and they were determined to do anything to make him happy. The changes needed to be gradual and they mustn't spoil him they knew that, but it wasn't going to be easy when they could offer him anything that he wanted.

With lunch over, it had turned into a glorious afternoon and after the morning that Harry had had he felt like some exercise, so suggested they go for a walk. As Thomas was still limited, rather than heading for the coastal path, which would have been the walk of their choice, they opted for the beach. Sticking to their and guns and determined that they wouldn't ask questions Ruth took Thomas by the hand and followed Harry down the same path that they had taken the twins and Robert. It seemed inconceivable that a six year old child who had lived all his life within miles of one of the most remote and beautiful coastlines that the UK could offer, had never walked on a beach. But it was a possibility, they had no idea. The remains of the fire that Harry had lit had been washed away since they had last been there, but there was an unspoken understanding that they'd do it again, when Harry nodded in the direction of the damp ashes.

'Come on let's button up that jacket,' wasn't of course directed at him, but was said with the voice of someone who had done this before, which Harry recognised, as Ruth tucked Thomas's trousers into his wellies.

The beach was deserted all bar them and without Robert as a companion to distract him, Harry found himself a sheltered spot and sat down. Just as she'd done with Rory and Maisie, Ruth had headed to the water's edge and started the 'I bet you can't catch me' game by splashing Thomas as the tide came in and then pretending to run away. Harry didn't analyse this was Ruth's forte, but this time he did. He was at peace within himself and his surroundings and everything that he had ever wanted was playing the most ridiculous of games within yards of where he was sitting. And then Thomas waved and with it Harry's heart stalled and it became his eureka moment. It was picture perfect, but it was more than that, he was free to enjoy it.

* * *

In the four weeks since Thomas had been with them, they'd restricted their intimacy to the evenings and when they'd been in bed, but it hadn't been easy and Harry in particular had been struggling. He'd had a stressful day and he needed to relax and they could continue this _we need to buy Thomas some new clothes_ conversation in the morning.

'If Thomas is going to adapt to a normal family home life, then he needs to see how couples who love each other behave,' he suggested, going on the explain with a big grin on his face 'that he had no intention of throwing her over the kitchen table in front of him or inviting him into their bedroom during …..,' was cut off as Ruth kissed him, realising that she had got carried away as usual and that what Harry and she needed, was to relax.

'I'm sorry I was prattling,' she told him half an hour later when they were in bed and Harry had got his wish, but Harry was already asleep. In fact they were both asleep the following morning, when a certain six year old who had taken himself to the bathroom was shouting that he couldn't reach the toilet paper.

'That'll be me then,' said Ruth, as Harry groaned and turned over, a replay of the previous evening foiled.

Bum wiped and hands washed, Thomas followed Ruth into the kitchen.

'Yes he would like a cup of tea, if she was having one,' and 'no he couldn't have coffee like Harry,' saw them climbing the stairs together and into the bedroom.

Sitting on Harry's lap and talking to him had become one of Thomas's favourite pastimes and he wanted to do it now, but it was a cold morning and Harry was warm and very comfortable beneath the covers and didn't want to move. It was another step towards normality, as Thomas uninvited climbed up onto the bed snuggled in beside him, the ultimate condom.

* * *

As far as was possible with a six year old boy at their beck and call, they tried to stick to a routine. Meals that had been eaten at haphazard times, a throwback to their days on the grid, were in the main eaten at sensible times as was their diet. Thomas wasn't the only one that was benefitting from Ruth's home cooking, so was Harry. It might have been Scotland and heaven knows how many degrees cooler than when she'd been in Cyprus, but Thomas had never been on a picnic, it was one of his wishes that could easily be met, and with a view that surpassed almost all on the island, they ate outside in the evenings, especially at weekends.

Harry had spoken to Graham and their planned trip to Canada had been put on hold, 'until it was over' was how they described the approaching meeting. To take Thomas out of the country and to get him a passport, involved another trip to see Harry's least favourite social worker. She wanted to see Thomas as well, which again was protocol she told Harry, but he conceded understandable given the circumstances. It wasn't a subject that they had discussed with Thomas in case it came with disappointment, though Ruth had no doubts that _Miss Harridan_ as Harry had nicknamed her would give it her rubber stamp, despite Harry feeling otherwise. The appointment had been arranged for the following morning which was a school free day for Ruth and in Thomas's case meant a morning off. Ruth was in the kitchen preparing their meal and Thomas had been playing in the garden. Bored and feeling hungry, he'd deserted his swing and walked into the study where Harry was having his once a week conversation with Alice. Tapping Harry's knee, the signal that he was going to climb onto Harry's lap, he stared in amazement at the small girl that was talking at the rate of knots.

Her Grandfather temporarily binned, 'who are you?' asked Alice.

At the same moment, Ruth stuck her head around the door, about to say hands washed please and to tell them that their meal was ready, but was prevented from saying so by Harry's finger across his lips. Keen to see what was happening, she walked to where Harry was sitting and leaned forward so that her chin was resting on his shoulder and her face next to Thomas.

'Hello Ruth,' said Alice.

'Thank goodness it's salad,' Ruth whispered in Harry's ear, with Thomas talking ten to the dozen at the computer screen.

* * *

Thomas's assessments and what they had come to realise were theirs as well, were held in a room with armchairs and a play area and today was no different. Miss Harrison's job was repetitive she had a script that she'd honed to perfection. But she also enjoyed a battle it brought interest to her day, where honours were usually even by the end of the meeting. Harry she thought of as a knight in shining armour, which of course he was in every sense of the word. She acknowledged that he was more than capable of holding his own but she liked him, despite his somewhat _I'm more than a match for you_ manner. She'd done this job for twenty years, she was a reader of people and from the beginning she'd realised that he clearly cared deeply for Ruth and now Thomas.

'Before you say anything, you might like to read this,' she told him, in a voice that to Harry sounded worrying pleasant, handing him a single sheet of paper. Harry's mouth that had been open closed rapidly, his fist in the opposite direction.

Ruth was sitting on the floor in the play area holding her breath and waiting for an explosion, surrounded by a mountain of bricks that were being turned into a castle, as Harry read and then re-read the latest letter from Thomas's psychologist. Words and phrases like, a complete turn-around, satisfied, more than competent and a happy little boy blurred before his eyes as Miss Harrison poured them a coffee and suggested that Ruth and Thomas join them.

'Yes you can take him to Canada,' she confirmed again, 'and providing that your circumstances don't change, I don't need to see any of you for another year.'

'That's wonderful, thank you so much,' Harry heard himself saying.

'When can I tell Alice?' said a small voice for the back of the car on the drive home.

Alice had become an important part of Thomas's new life and at school had set him apart from the other children, now though for a positive reason. Art classes saw him drawing pictures of him and Alice together, Ruth had researched Canada, so was able to answer his questions and having shown him the Canadian flag, his attempt to draw a maple leaf was improving. He was also back to full fitness and his confidence had grown and that in itself made everyone's life easier, although at breakfast and bedtime more challenging as he became less dependent.

Four months later.

With a week to go before they flew to the mainland and then onwards to Canada, the house had been turned into what Harry thought to be chaos but what Ruth kept telling him was organised. The spare room was piled high with everything that they were taking with them, for every eventuality so it seemed, apart from some extra clothes for Thomas and a present for Alice.

'They do have shops in Canada,' Harry pleaded, as an evening visit into Stornoway which was almost a year to the day since he'd first arrived on the island, was turning into a Christmas shopping trip. They were going to miss the carol concert and the children's Christmas party but no one begrudged them that or the fact that there would be one less sheep. The outdoor pursuits shops all of which catered for all ages and all shapes and sizes, had Thomas getting his wish and Harry handing over his card to pay for a 'It's Christmas' jumper with a Santa on the front and a matching one for Alice, plus two pairs of fleece lined trousers and a new padded jacket.

It's only money mate,' said the delighted storekeeper, who up until then had been having a quiet evening. This newly invented Harry, refrained from telling him that he was not his mate.

An eleven hour flight with a six year old which included a stopover, had seen Harry rubbishing their 'we don't spoil Thomas policy', by booking first class seats. Besides which he'd always preferred comfort and a decent meal and at the end of the journey, he wanted to be able to feel his legs. Their flight from Glasgow was due to take off around midnight and Harry had long given up trying to explain to Thomas why he'd be meeting Alice at approximately the same time. Another dismal failure was to try and persuade him to stay awake in the hope that when they boarded the plane that he'd be tired and would sleep. Wired best described Thomas's demeanour when Michael returning one of many favours, dropped them off at the airport.

'Look after each other and God bless,' had been his last words as he'd shaken Harry's hand.

'Just promise me that you'll come back,' had been Rose's plea.

Glasgow airport was small by comparison to Heathrow or Gatwick, but none the less to a small child who was seeing it for the first time it was an alien and scary world, and the one thing that they hadn't considered. Only once before had they seen Thomas cry, it when he'd fallen over in the playground. This time it came with words that were almost incoherent as he held his arms up in front of Harry and demanded to be carried.

Christ thought Harry, now what, they had another three hours before they were due to board and their luggage had already gone through.

Ignoring the looks that they were being given from other travellers and with Ruth in charge of their carry on, they pushed their way through the crowd in search of somewhere quiet to sit and deal with the now howling Thomas, who to Harry was getting heavier by the minute. No he didn't need the toilet and no he wasn't hungry had them believing what had now become a real concern that perhaps he didn't want to fly.

The waves eventually parted in front of them, when a passing stewardess pointed them in the direction of a rest room near the departure lounge that was reserved for families with under nines. Why nine was significant they had no idea but they didn't care, it meant sanctuary and a chance to sort this out. As the door closed behind them and with it noise from the concourse moderated, Thomas's howls reduced to snivels as he calmed. With Ruth having told Harry that she fetch them a drink, it was left to Harry to talk to Thomas.

'Poor little mite, mine are always the same when we come here,' offered a well - wishing mother of two, whose under nines were fast asleep, 'it's the crowds and the noise that gets to them.'

'Noise,' repeated Thomas, as Harry mentally kicked himself for being so stupid and thanked their companion.

By the time that Ruth returned, Thomas had joined the other children in sleep and Harry was deep in conversation with their neighbour.

'Magic touch,' he said grinning at her as she kissed him on the cheek, before he confessed that it had nothing to do with him. 'Marion was just saying that Thomas looks just like you,' was said with an eyebrow raised, in an effort to get Ruth to get her to change the subject, in case Thomas woke up.

It still felt strange to be back in the real world where people assumed that you were like them and lead ordinary lives. They'd been cocooned on the island and free from intrusion and it was a stark reminder that they were far from adept at coping with it, unless they told lies. Ruth stuck to the truth and ended the current conversation, by telling Marion whatever her name was that they were fostering Thomas but were hoping to adopt him. It had been an unspoken subject up until now but something that they had both harboured. Adoption meant permanent and Harry smiled, Ruth had paved the way to a very happy Christmas.


	18. Chapter 18

With a cheery bon voyage from the inquisitive Marion and a distinctly tongue in cheek it's been lovely to meet you from Harry, the now relaxed and back to his normal self Thomas with his hands held tightly in theirs, walked steadily through the departure lounge. Harry being permitted to carry him through the scanners saved what would have been a traffic jam of passengers in various modes of dress who were being ordered to remove shoes and belts and then Ruth talking to him non - stop, pointing out the arrows and signs that would take them to the departure bay and then onto their Air Canada flight, had succeeded in their first objective which was to board the plane.

Understandably vast compared to the planes that either of them had flown on and for Thomas the experience of his short lifetime, they finally found their seats. Ruth in all honesty wasn't particularly keen on flying although she hadn't admitted it, but her accelerated speech was the giveaway that Harry picked up on as he gave her the choice of the aisle or window seat. She chose the aisle for no particular reason, it was not as though she'd be able to get off mid-flight, but at least she'd be able to get to the toilet more easily or stretch her legs.

'She's not my type as you well know,' said Harry's eyes, as their blonde hostess leant across them to ensure that Thomas was safely strapped in, telling him that if there was anything they wanted, that he only needed to ask.

Harry's decision to fly first class was more than just the need for comfort and to be well fed. He was a man that believed that the first time for everything had to be memorable, a message that had been drummed into him by his father, who had spoilt his mother at every opportunity and had tried to instil the same belief into his sons. Harry fully acknowledged that with Jane he had _balls it up,_ but with Ruth he had a path to redemption. The first time that he he'd kissed Ruth, the first time that he'd danced with her, the first time that he'd told her that he loved her and up to now and at the top of his list, the first time that he'd made love to her were his most precious memories. But in the eight years that he'd known her they had never been on holiday, there had been no dream trip to Paris or New York and his botched proposal had been refused. Now though through circumstances that neither of them had orchestrated, he had a second chance and Harry Pearce was a man on a mission.

* * *

The advantage of being six years old with a mass of dark curly hair, a face that said I'm an angel when I'm behaving and then Harry telling Bekki their stewardess that he was flying for the first time, resulted in Thomas receiving an invitation. As Harry and a more relaxed Ruth sat quietly on their own for the first time in hours and waited for their meal to arrive, he was whisked away without protest to meet the only other child, four rows back who was going to be given a tour of the plane. She'd keep an eye on him she told them and when he got tired she'd bring him back. In the meantime they should enjoy the quiet.

'Besides me not knowing that we were flying first class, what other planning in advance have you been doing?' Ruth asked, as she relaxed back into her seat and leant in against him. She didn't get an answer until their meal arrived, other than another kiss and a whisper to be patient.

Alone at last apart from the other two hundred plus passengers, Harry opened the bottle of wine that he had chosen that had been delivered with their meal. It was one year to the day since Malcolm and Tariq had deciphered Ruth's reference to the Shipping Forecast and for Harry that spelt celebration. Had they not been going to visit Graham and Thomas with them, then he'd have taken Ruth to Paris, but that was for another day and at the moment, it paled by comparison.

After a long and stress filled day, Ruth was bone tired and Harry was right she needed to sleep. It would have been nice to have Harry to curl up next too, but that wouldn't have been possible with Thomas sleeping between them. Never mind, he was hers body and soul even when he wasn't there and if she'd really needed him to stay he would have done it without question. They were a family now and whatever else he had planned for this holiday she had to be patient and let it play out, because contrived or not it was what Harry wanted, it was as clear as day.

While Ruth slept and before he joined her and Thomas with him, they had their visit to see the pilot. It had been easy to arrange as was the fact that they had seats with extra leg room. From the moment that Graham had shown him the photograph of Alice, Harry had started his planning. A willing Malcolm who would have done anything to right the wrongs that had been metered out over the years had been Harry's organiser with the airline and with Graham, and when Thomas had been unexpectedly plummeted into their lives, a simple few tweaks had got them to where they were now.

'Absolutely delighted to have helped,' had been Malcolm's exact words, when he'd confirmed the arrangements, with the promise to visit them in the New Year.

* * *

'Good evening ladies and gentlemen,' when it felt like middle of the morning, with the suggestion that 'they adjust their watches to Canadian time,' from the pilot, roused a plane of sleeping passengers and a demand from Thomas that he needed a wee. While Ruth dutifully dragged herself out of her seat and took him to the rest room to dress him in his fleece lined trousers rather than the jogging bottoms that he'd been wearing to sleep and to give his face and hands a quick _lick and a promise_ , Harry was handed the menu choices which could be anything from breakfast to dinner, from the still cheerful Bekki.

Take away the menu and replace it with a black eye a split lip and broken ribs and it brought back memories of his last long haul flight and recent _holiday in the sun_ with the CIA which had been without the niceties that he so valued. It was less than an hour to go before they landed and he felt more rested than he'd expected.

Throughout breakfast though, Harry kept glancing at his watch, restless and pre – occupied, and Ruth knew why. Alice was within touching distance and meeting her for the first time was going to be an emotional and difficult moment for him. He was her open book and she could see his body language changing and how hard he was trying to control it. Hard hearted Harry he certainly wasn't, his heart was melting under the weight of emotion that was building.

During the run up to the holiday while Harry had been swept along, Ruth had done some serious thinking and with Graham on board, she'd done a little preplanning of her own. As much as she loved Thomas, she knew that if only for a few moments, that Harry needed to meet his granddaughter on his own and to do that she needed to hold Thomas back. Harry was hugely important to Thomas, but for the month that lay ahead of them Thomas would have to learn how to share, something that they hadn't discussed and she felt fairly certain Harry wouldn't have considered. It was Ruth's only concern and in discussing it with Graham, she had an ally.

They had collected their luggage from the carousel and were walking towards the arrivals lounge, when Ruth who was holding Thomas's hand stopped and told Harry to go ahead, they would catch him up.

'Go on, we won't be far behind you,' was said with a look that Harry recognised and his reply was a simple 'thank you.'

Confronted with one now impatient little man who wanted to go with Harry and in an effort to avoid being trampled underfoot, she manoeuvred them to one side and bent down.

'I'm sure Alice would like you to give her a present when you meet her,' she suggested taking her time as she dug into her carry on where she'd stored a tiny teddy bear, as Harry disappeared over Thomas's shoulder into the crowd of their fellow passengers.

True to his word, as soon as Ruth and Thomas appeared, Graham stepped forward and after briefly kissing Ruth on the cheek, he scooped Thomas up into the air and handed him a 'Santa's on his way' badge, stepping far enough away for his father to give him some privacy. Safe from the crowds that were milling around them that were greeting their friends and loved ones that were arriving for Christmas, Ruth watched on. Harry was on his haunches with both of Alice's tiny hands in his own, with her chatting to him and a look on Harry's face that made Ruth reach for her phone to take a picture. Graham was doing a sterling job of keeping Thomas occupied, distracting him for as long as Harry needed to compose himself, before walking Alice back to her father.

'Yours I believe,' grinned Graham, passing Thomas back to Harry.

* * *

They had a two hour drive in front of them and with his father relaxing beside him Graham drove out of the city and away from the bright lights. In the back of the car, Ruth with the sleeping children on either side of her, was in all senses of the word in the dark and had no idea as to where they were going.

'If you're looking for a romantic family Christmas location, then wait until you see this,' Graham told them, as he turned off a road through the forest, to come face to face with what Ruth later described to the children when she was reading to them, as Red Riding Hood's Palace. It was more than twice the size of their home in Scotland which was by no means pokey, but it wouldn't be until the following morning which in this case was only a few hours away, that they would fully appreciated the grandeur of the scenery. Built fifteen years ago in what was now a Nature Reserve on the periphery of the National Park, the house stood in acres of pine forest with a private lake and a backdrop of mountains.

'Lucy's parents own it,' Graham explained, 'but they've flown to warmer climes for the winter, so it's all ours.'

'Let's hope we don't break anything,' Harry whispered to Ruth, as they carried the last of their luggage from the car and went in search of their rooms.

They had a choice of three, one on the ground floor adjacent to a twin room where Alice slept and if they were ok with that, then Thomas could share, or one of the two on the first floor. It was an easy decision and whilst Ruth sorted out Thomas's things in the room next to theirs, Harry did as he was told and went to find Graham in the kitchen.

'Lucy's working tonight, she'll drive over in the morning,' answered the one question that Harry hadn't asked Graham. 'Her parents are loaded as you can see by this, but they're really down to earth and they love Alice.'

She's beautiful and I'm so proud of you was what Harry wanted to say, but it was not the place or time. He would save it for later when he could guarantee that they wouldn't be interrupted.

The lodge it told them in the information booklet that had been left by their bedside had originally been built as a weekend retreat but had been extended and developed over the years as a second family home. Surrounded by their own land, which they were welcome to explore, the only suggestion was that no matter what age, children should be kept away from the lake unless accompanied by their parents. There were instructions as to where the wood shed was, that there was a boat with an outboard if they fancied a trip on the lake and some instructions as to how to work the kitchen appliances. A card signed from Chuck and Dorothy, wished them a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and the hope that that they'd enjoy their holiday.

'Are there any bears?' asked Thomas who was still going strong as Harry tucked him up in bed and kissed him goodnight after eating some breakfast for the second time in less than five hours.

'Go to sleep there's a good boy or you'll wake Alice,' he told him, praying that he'd sleep for at least a few hours before he woke them. Ruth was already in bed and he wanted to join her, both of them wilting as the effects of the time difference set in.


	19. Chapter 19

If you're only two years old even if you are the brightest button in the box, climbing onto his bed to say good morning to your Grandad usually requires help. In this particular instance, having a six year old uncle, well actually he's nearly seven because he's told you that he has a birthday in January, who's equally determined and always up for a challenge can prove to be a useful ally. Now though once you've got there and are sitting on the bed together and Grandad's asleep, there's the dilemma as to what to do next. After consideration, Thomas determined and managed to convey to Alice that poking Harry or tickling his feet in an effort to get him to wake up was out of the question. With just two more days before Santa Claus was expected to call by with some presents, this might be construed as naughty and find you eliminated from his visiting list. It was cold at seven o'clock in the morning especially when you were only wearing pyjamas, so rather than climb down again, the only option apart from freezing was to crawl under the covers and join him.

This was how Graham found them and this time it was he who reached for his phone.

Harry slowly stirred into wakefulness smiling that at his favourite time of day with the flight now a distant memory, normality had returned. Ruth's head on his shoulder, her arm slung low across his waist her breathing even and calm. He was surprised how warm he felt considering the temperature, but then it must have been close to mid - morning, so probably the heating had come on. Needing to adjust his position slightly as the longing to wake her in the time honoured way had reached his groin, he concluded that he had plenty of time and that he should let her sleep. He'd coped with the flight as had Thomas, whereas Ruth with her fear of flying had been really stressed even though she'd done her best to hide it. With the promise to his now growing erection that having made himself a cup of coffee that he'd come back to bed and make good his intention, he opened his eyes and tried to move. He couldn't, there were two tiny legs and arms behind him that were pinning him in.

'No they hadn't been naughty and no Grandad Harry wasn't cross, but sometimes he was still tired in the mornings, so until the big hand was on twelve and the small hand was on nine they mustn't come into their bedroom,' was how Ruth who had drawn the short straw, was explaining it to her small audience while Harry laid the table and Graham made them pancakes for their breakfast. A single glare had achieved her objective in stopping Graham laughing, but had no impact on Harry who was standing behind the children's backs with his eyes twinkling at her and mouthing tired.

'We could have been, yes I'm well aware of what we could have been,' had preceded this conversation after they'd opened their eyes to find that they had company.

* * *

Lucy who had finished her shift at the hospital had gone home to their small flat in the city to rest for a couple of hours before she set out on her journey. She and Graham had shopped in the run up to Christmas and the food that he hadn't taken with him plus presents for everyone were already loaded in the car. It wasn't ideal that her job as a nurse saw her on a rota of day and night shifts, but now that Graham working from home made it easier and since Alice had arrived had been a godsend. She loved her parents she really did, but it was at times like this that she really cursed them. Jetting all over the world just because they could, had become an obsession and it wasn't as though this current trip was anything special. It was Christmas for goodness sake and they could have easily postponed so that they could have met Graham's father and Ruth. But they'd never pretended that they'd be a help to them despite them having Alice. If what Graham had told her was true, then Harry and Ruth were a totally different kettle of fish, so for the first time in years she was looking forward to a real family Christmas. She needed to ring them before she went to sleep.

'Mummy,' said Alice as soon as the phone rang, holding out her jam covered fingers in expectation.

'If we're here, she always calls us as soon as she gets home,' Graham explained, handing over the phone and going on to tell them that Lucy worked in A&E and that the night shift brought in all sorts of dodgy customers. 'I hate her doing it and I always worry, but she loves it and in Canada, the money's good,' had Harry asking the question about her parents and their ability to help. 'Financially they're loaded, but that's not what counts is it and besides which we want to be independent, but as grandparents they're crap,' was said in a voice that reminded Harry of a younger Graham when he'd been the object of his criticism. His thoughts were interrupted when Alice handed him the jam covered phone and he found himself listening to Lucy.

'I hope you all slept well and Graham's looking after you,' sounded so genuine and unexpectedly concerned, that Harry found himself picturing Lucy to be like Ruth. If she was, then Graham was in safe hands.

'We're really looking forward to meeting you, Thomas is really excited, sleep well,' he heard himself saying, as he handed the phone over to his son.

'Everyone's fine, I'll sort dinner, drive carefully sweetheart,' ended Graham's conversation and he went back to the job in hand.

* * *

'This is really Lucy's domain not mine, so if it's OK with you two, we'll leave tour of the outside until tomorrow,' he told them, when they were getting a more extensive look around the house. The huge windows that could be shuttered against the weather offered amazing views of the lake and the mountains. Both the upstairs double bedrooms had an en suite shower room as did their double downstairs, plus an additional bathroom. The lounge was massive with a fireplace and a wood burner, but disappointingly as far as Harry was concerned considering that there were wall to wall trees as far as the eye could see, was that there wasn't a Christmas tree indoors.

'Lucy's the organiser as you will have gathered, I just tag along, a bit like you Dad,' was said after Ruth disappeared to get the children dressed. 'Ruth's awesome, she's lovely and as for Thomas it's great to see you so happy Dad,' appeared to come from nowhere, although Harry guessed was something that Graham had been planning to say and was his way of saying that he had accepted that they had taken on a child. 'Anyway, the weather here can change quickly, so as it's a warmish day there's a nice trek beyond the lake if you fancy stretching your legs?' Graham suggested.

Half an hour later, with Alice strapped into her harness on Graham's back and Thomas walking between Ruth and Harry, they set off.

'If we lived here all the time, I'd choose to be a Park Ranger,' Graham threw into the conversation, as they left the lodge behind them and reached the lake where he pointed out the boathouse and said that they'd visit that another day, before changing direction onto a well maintained path through the forest where apart from the sound of their footsteps, the silence was all consuming. He and Ruth had prepared a picnic which Harry was carrying in a haversack which according to their guide they were going to eat in one of the many tourist shelters that were dotted in and around the Park. Graham's enthusiasm was infectious as he waxed lyrical about the wildlife and what a wonderful place it was for children to learn about preserving the environment.

'Yes there are bears, lots of them,' he told the still inquisitive Thomas, 'but we're quite safe here because they inhabited the mountains and never come over to our side of the valley.'

'But I want to meet one,' had Ruth telling Harry that she didn't, unless it was behind a bloody great fence.

The first of various stops so that they could take in the views and also rest their legs, was at a crossroads of paths at the brow of a small hill.

When it came to Harry, Thomas had developed an unspoken language which usually succeeded in getting him what he wanted and in this case it was no different and in the circumstances didn't apply on their _don't spoil Thomas_ list _._ Graham had been carrying Alice and Thomas had so far been walking, having announced that he was nearly seven, a hint if ever there was one that he had a birthday that they shouldn't forget and that he was a big boy and didn't need carrying. Harry was standing in front the bench taking photographs and Ruth was sitting with Graham, when Thomas tapped Harry's legs to get his attention and then his own shoulders in rapid succession.

Ruth had no idea about the earlier conversation that Graham had had with Harry and wanted to pave the way. There were going to be many instances when Graham would witness the relationship that Harry had forged with Thomas and if their holiday wasn't going to end in disaster, she needed Graham to be prepared,

'He's formed a real bond with your Father,' she told him nodding towards Thomas, praying that she wasn't lighting the blue touch paper. It was a potential time bomb given Graham's history with his father, but to Ruth it felt as good a time as any to take that chance. 'It's not going to be easy,' she explained, going on to tell him about Thomas's upbringing, his mother's tragic death and how he'd never known his father. 'Whatever happens we won't quit, we've been told to expect months or maybe even years of ups and downs and we've been advised to take it one step at a time and let Thomas deal with life at his own pace.'

Years meant that they were in for the long game as far as Thomas was concerned and re – affirmed Graham's description of Ruth as being awesome.

'Why on earth did you make the decision to take him on,' gave Ruth the chance to give Graham a potted version of her own history and to tell him that she liked to think that had things been different, then she and Harry would have had a child of their own.

'We talked about trying for a baby now but when Thomas came along it felt the right thing to do and it's easier than nappies and night feeds I suspect, although we still get the sleepless nights from time to time when he has nightmares.'

'He used to carry me like that,' Graham said more to himself than to Ruth, as they watched Harry dutifully sit down and a now chatting Thomas climb onto his shoulders.

'Light as a feather,' Harry told them. She doubted that.

The sun had reached its highest by the time that they stopped again at the shelter that Graham had been aiming for. While Ruth poured the hot drinks and Graham sorted out the picnic, Harry continued with his project by going camera crazy as Alice copied Thomas by making funny faces, until Graham took over and took pictures of his new family. Another dusting of snow was forecast overnight and with it the real possibility that they'd be snowed in for a while, but Harry had got what he wanted, a record of each and every day to add to his memories.

As Ruth watched on, 'come on Dad, let's swap,' saw what Ruth suspected was a relieved Harry carrying the much lighter Alice, as Thomas without protest was being hoisted onto Graham's shoulders.

She'd unloaded her concerns and her conversation with Graham had gone so much better than she'd imagined it would, she could finally relax. Still pinching herself that they were in Canada for Christmas, she cast her mind back. A year ago she'd been so lonely and dreading the winter alone until Harry had gate crashed the Christmas service, barely able to put one foot in front of the other, covered in bruises and mentally shattered. And yet here he was now, looking ten years younger and fitter than he'd ever been. She may have been the driving force in the beginning, but now they were equal partners in everything they did. Reunited with his son and with the potential to adopt Thomas, it still pulled her up short as to how lucky they were.

'I hope you're keeping up Ruth,' from Harry saw her running to catch them up as they turned for home, marching in unison to Hi Ho Hi Ho, from the Seven Dwarfs that Graham was encouraging his father to join in. It really did feel like Christmas. On the crest of the final hill with less than a mile to go the lodge came into view, warm and welcoming, but it wasn't until that moment that they'd appreciated how large it was. To one side in what looked like a barn the generator and _stuff_ for all eventualities as Graham described it were stored, but exactly what the stuff was, he didn't elaborate. As soon as they'd received the message that the holiday was on, he and Lucy had spent an entire week plotting and planning surprises, all of which were concealed within its four walls. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and from then on and once Lucy arrived all would be revealed.

'There's a hot tub over there, you should try it,' Graham said pointing and with a wink at his father. Harry thought they should, it would be another very pleasant first.

* * *

Once home, a still enthusiastic Graham wanted to do everything but with Lucy arriving in less than two hours, the fires needed to be lit and the children needed to have their baths and be changed into more comfortable clothes. Other when they'd been asleep, Harry and Ruth had barely had a moment on their own and after two days as much as he'd been relaxing and enjoying himself, Harry needed some Ruth time. He'd calculated that if they offered to cook the meal, then he'd get that chance.

'I'm up for that,' said Graham, who after a full day spent watching his Dad and Ruth interact, was reading between the lines and beginning to enjoy himself. 'Coats and boots first please,' was a command to the children, but Harry and Ruth obligingly conformed, lining up their boots along with the rest, before Graham told Thomas that it was bath time and he the chance to splash about with Alice before they had their dinner.

Lucy would be home soon and there was so much more to come and with it what Graham imagined would be the ultimate Christmas surprise for Harry and Ruth.

'Come on you two,' and the children followed him upstairs.

'I understand that you've been talking to my son,' briefly stilled Ruth's fidgety fingers that had been frantically turning the pages of the instruction manual, for a range that had more bells and whistles than Cape Canaveral. Once a spy always a spy he'd crept across the kitchen with the intension of surprising her rather than half scaring her to death. 'It's fine Ruth and I'm glad that you think I'm lovely,' was said in the same gentle voice that he'd always used when he'd caught her unawares, now though with the confidence of knowing that having called him a bastard, that she'd kiss him rather than run. 'Hear that,' he whispered pulling her even closer, referring to the squeals of laughter that were coming from the upstairs bathroom. He was safe in the knowledge that they weren't going to be disturbed any time soon, with Graham's promise that after bath time that he'd keep the children out of their way by finding them a film to watch. He tried again. 'Ruth stop, how long can it possibly take to re heat a casserole and prepare a few veggies?' came with the promise that he guaranteed to be _tired_ later. 'So I'm not a bastard,' was the last thing that he said, as Ruth gave into temptation and joined him on the magic carpet. Their clothes stayed on, both of them aware that it wasn't appropriate to take advantage of the situation no matter how tempting, although it didn't stop jumpers being disturbed and Ruth's bra coming undone as hands went in search of flesh. It was their first proper kiss for more than two days and they were completely lost in each other with any thought of dinner abandoned, until they heard the car arrive.

* * *

With no idea as to where anyone else in the house now was, they heard the front door open and Alice shout Mummy, before Ruth, ignoring Harry's order to stay where she was, raced after him in the direction of the screams.


	20. Chapter 20

If it had been on stage it would have been billed as _the_ _typical start to a Family Christmas_ , but it wasn't on stage it was real, something that an hour later they finally found themselves laughing about, even Harry.

Had it not been for the fact that it was Thomas who was screaming and had hurtled himself full tilt into Harry's legs begging to be picked up, then Harry would have been delighted to have come face to face with his daughter and Callum.

'Well isn't this jolly,' Callum tried again rather unwisely, having failed dismally with 'surprise.'

'Idiot, oh hi Dad,' from Catherine had stopped Harry dead in his tracks, causing Ruth who was hot on his heels to bump into him from behind.

'Idiot,' she said again as Callum apologised and said 'good evening sir' by way of an apology to Harry, and 'Ruth', who just wanted to know why Thomas was howling whilst praying that no one other than Harry would know that her bra was undone.

'I didn't mean to frighten him, I'm sorry Cath,' failed to appease anyone, especially Ruth who by now had relieved Harry of the screaming Thomas and Harry who up to now had never heard anyone call his daughter Cath.

Lucy, still to be introduced to her prospected father in law and Ruth, hopped from one foot to the other until Graham suggested that they rescue dinner while the rest of them got re acquainted.

'Come on Lucy,' from Graham saw Ruth apologising, for what she didn't know.

They'd booked their seats the moment that Malcolm had rung and told them that Harry and Ruth were taking Thomas to Canada for Christmas, and yes Graham and Lucy had known, was Catherine's explanation when Harry had finally calmed down. It had been a gamble being on the same flight but they'd _got away with it_ _hadn't they_ from a still smiling Callum, wasn't a criticism of Harry's ability as a spy, but by the look on his face, Ruth had a dreadful feeling that he'd see it as such. They'd spent the day in Ottawa and then had driven down with Lucy. He, Callum that was, hadn't planned on frightening Thomas half to death by pressing his face to the window, he'd been curious to see where everyone was and he was sorry. For god's sake quit while you're ahead thought Ruth who had been watching Harry flexing his fingers.

After a long and now emotional day, they finally sat down to dinner. Alice had been put to bed but Thomas who was still awake way after his normal bedtime had been given licence to stay up and was sitting on Ruth's lap. Too tired to feed himself he hadn't been given a plate and Harry was feeding him with whatever he fancied on his. Catherine who had been determined to make this trip was absolutely fascinated by him. She'd missed out on meeting Thomas by a few weeks and when Callum had been told that he could take leave over Christmas it had become a no brainer as far as she was concerned. She'd been just as concerned as Graham about the possible negative impact that a new baby would have on her Dad and Ruth's relationship and even more so when she been told about Thomas's history, but in the space of just an hour she thought differently. They looked so relaxed, completely at ease with each other and Thomas, as they'd excused themselves from the table saying that they needed to put Thomas to bed.

'Not getting broody are you?' asked Graham who had been watching his sister. Catherine didn't answer.

* * *

On the dot of nine the following morning, their two tiny visitors climbed onto their bed. It was Christmas Eve on what promised to be a busy and fun filled day. Breakfast was delivered, they were to relax there was no hurry, said a smiling Lucy but when they were ready would they mind getting the children washed and dressed.

In the kitchen which had been tided after the previous evening's antics and where breakfast had already finished there was a planning meeting going on, with jobs being divvied out from Graham's list.

'Let's get Christmas over first before we start worrying about his party,' was a reference to Thomas being seven on the fourth.

'Ever feel like you're being side lined for some reason Ruth?' Harry asked her, as she buttered him another slice of toast whilst the children sat at the small table eating their porridge, much like Goldilocks and the Three Bears.

'Whatever they're up to I intend enjoying it and so should you,' was a reference to what had been a return to Ruth's favourite wake up call. The fact that it had been at seven o'clock in the morning when she'd been sound asleep would normally have seen Harry getting short shrift, but it had been days now since they'd made love and after the previous evenings disruption when Catherine had arrived, she'd been as eager as Harry. For all his shortcomings of which there had been many, sex however Ruth wanted it had never been on that list. There had been the added frisson of knowing that the house was awash with younger members of the family all of whom were asleep, as they'd given each other the first and second of several Christmas presents.

Had they not been put in charge of the little ones, then Harry would have initiated a repeat performance in the shower, but as it was he had to wait as sticky porridge covered fingers and faces begged to be washed. None the less, even that could be enjoyed when he was sitting on the side of the bath and watching Ruth still in her pyjamas, warm and flustered. For a moment he considered the real possibility that he was _the some sort of weirdo_ that she'd once called him, because it was having a remarkable effect on his body. He was tempted to say me next please as she finished towelling Thomas down, but he thought better of it and popped it in his memory box for another time.

By the time they got themselves and the children dressed and went outside, the garden was already a hive of activity. Callum was up a ladder and with Catherine's help was stringing lights through the branches of the trees that bordered the garden. The sound of an engine in the barn announced the arrival of Graham, as he emerged driving a small 4x4 with a trailer that was loaded with a huge Christmas tree that was being taken in the direction of the house.

Keep an eye on those two would you and no they didn't need a hand they were fine, but a cup of coffee would be nice when they had a moment, were Lucy's requests before she disappeared again, after Harry had asked her how they could help.

Duly delivered and after a shout of coffee from Harry, a question from Thomas who by now had decided that sitting on Catherine's lap might prove more fruitful in obtaining a chocolate biscuit, became a real reality check when he asked Graham why he'd been taking a tree into the house?

Ruth knew that he'd seen the Christmas tree in the school room and had been there when it had been transferred to the church because he'd helped her decorate it, but his question implied that he and his mother had never had one in the house. The air stalled as he turned to her questioningly, nobody else appearing to know how to answer his question or its implication. Not wanting to lie to him but unable to tell him that this was what people did at Christmas, she came up with the only explanation that came to mind.

'It's a surprise for Harry sweetheart, can you keep a secret?' she asked him just loud for the rest of them to hear. 'Harry loves Christmas trees so we're all going to decorate it later and put the presents around it, just like we did at school do you remember?' was true in part and all she had on the spur of the moment, as Thomas nodded to her conspiratorially and Harry mouthed, 'I love you,' marvelling at her ability to deal with almost any situation when everyone around her was floundering.

As the morning continued, there was more than one conversation going on that reflected how lucky they'd all been as children.

'It's almost inconceivable that a child can get to the age of six and not know that people have Christmas trees in their houses,' commented Catherine, when she and Ruth were sitting together during a lull in proceedings having watched Thomas and Alice disappear into the barn on Harry's coat tails.

'Peas in a pod those two, he's been amazing all things considered but he's still very fragile,' referred to Thomas not Harry and Catherine knew that. It gave her the green light to tell Ruth how she felt about their new situation.

'Graham's kept me updated about Dad's chats with Alice, but until last night I really didn't know how I'd feel about Thomas until I saw you all together, but he's lovely and it feels as though, oh I don't know, like he's the final piece in the puzzle, does that make sense?'

She was absolutely right, he was Ruth thought, 'I've missed you Catherine,' she told her.

* * *

Lunch came and lunch went and still Graham and Callum kept going. Sitting on the huge veranda which was now also bedecked with lights that had yet to be turned on, a contented and relaxed Harry, pondered what would until less than twenty four hours ago have been inconceivable. Muffled up against the rapidly dropping temperature, the Aladdin's cave that was the barn had produced some outside burners that were enabling him to sit with Ruth Catherine and Lucy and enjoy a hot toddy, whilst watching Graham driving the 4x4 through the slalom of the trees, with Callum, Thomas and Alice in the trailer. Totally content now that the warm drink had slipped like velvet from his lips, he took his eyes away from the excited children and feasted them on the three women that were sitting with him. Lucy was lovely with a shock of red hair she was beautiful, there was no other way to describe her, but she was so bloody down to earth and everything that he would have wished for his son. Catherine who he'd imagined he'd be chatting to on his phone on Christmas Day here with him, a chip off the old block and as spikey as ever and more than a match for Callum. Then Ruth, relaxed and totally in control of everything around her, masterminding, patching up the cracks and creating a bond between everyone, something that she had always been able to achieve, God how he loved her.

He'd been so carried away by his thoughts that he hadn't realised that the game that had been going on in the garden was over, until Thomas arrived like the bulldozer that he'd become and jumped onto his lap, shouting fun. He's right thought Harry, as Thomas buried his hands inside Harry's jacket and snuggled in, it was exactly what it was and this was just the start of Christmas.

'I'm fine, no damage, I've never felt better,' he told Ruth, who had been trying to restrain Thomas and prevent him from doing Harry some permanent harm, asking him if he was alright as Graham marched past them saying that if they wanted to get the tree decorated in time for Santa's visit, then they needed to get a move on.

'I used to be the parent once can you believe it?' was his response, as he and Ruth apparently in charge of the little ones again, followed the others into the house.

* * *

'We do, we do, we do,' was the outcome to Graham's question as to who wanted to turn the outside lights on, as two tiny pairs of hands one on top of the other pressed the button that illuminated the garden, before they were marshalled to the table to eat their supper and watch the tree being decorated. Lucy quite happy to be out of the limelight was in the kitchen organising dinner with Catherine.

'They're making me feel my age Ruth,' referred to the fact that it was Graham and Callum who were the ones that had been decorating the tree whilst he and Ruth had sat watching, before they'd been shunted into their bedroom to fill two pillow cases with things that would send Thomas and Alice into raptures. 'Bloody stuff,' he muttered, and Ruth said 'give it here,' as the sticking tape got stuck to his fingers for the umpteenth time.

'You need to read between the lines Harry, they've been planning this for months, they're making this Christmas all about Thomas,' was certainly a different way to look at things, as Ruth went on to tell him about the conversation that she'd had with Catherine. 'They want him to be part of the family and not feel as though we're all he has, so we have to give them the space to do that.'

'What about Alice?'

'She's two Harry she won't notice if Thomas is getting extra attention, besides which they've bonded, they share.'

'Dinner's ready,' called Lucy walking past the door, ended their conversation.

Whilst Harry and Ruth had been wrapping parcels and Lucy and Catherine had been in the kitchen, the huge sitting room had been transformed in readiness for Christmas Day. The tree was almost fully decorated and Graham and Callum had moved the dining room table so that it was positioned in front of one of the huge windows overlooking the garden.

'Who turned the lights on?' from Lucy, resulted in another 'we did' from Thomas, as Harry acknowledged what Ruth had suggested was true. He felt better and as the wine flowed he started to relax again, watching the interaction between his children and Thomas. Ruth, brilliant and beautiful had hit the nail on the head. He had to look forward and resist the temptation to look back. They couldn't change the past and what might have been. He wasn't a young man anymore and if Graham and Catherine had accepted Thomas, then his and Ruth's futures were secure and that was what really mattered. Today had seen the turning point that he'd been searching for without knowing it, that paved the way to their future.

'I'm fine,' he said again, as Ruth's hand found his own when they were sitting on the settee with the finishing touches being put to the tree, the children's eyes like organ stops when the lights came on. It was way past their bedtime but in an effort to avoid an early morning call they'd agreed to let them stay up. Whether it would work remained to be seen.

* * *

Never impetuous always measured would have been most people's description of Harry's decision making. With the promise that Santa was on his way, they'd finally managed to get the children to go to sleep and placed the two pillow cases at the foot of their beds.

'Here put your coat on,' he said to Ruth, popping his head around the door and telling Catherine that they were going outside.

'Why?' produced a smile.

It was certainly cold, bone chillingly so, but the mood that Harry was in, his intention had they seen him, would have been clear to all but Ruth who'd been heading for bed. He'd planned it to a tee even what he was going to say. It would be as the sun was going down over the sea at the High Point and they'd be sitting on her bench. With or without Thomas in their lives it wouldn't have made any difference. This time it would have been memorable in a good way. At exactly which point during the evening that he'd changed his mind and made the decision to ask her tonight he wasn't quite sure, but he was determined to do it as he turned on the burners and wrapped them in a blanket, overlooking the fact that he hadn't got a ring.

'Harry, please tell me that you've got a good reason other than us waiting for Santa, to be sitting out here when it's nearly midnight,' brought a wry grin and an overwhelming desire to kiss her. The setting with the lights around the garden, their reflection bouncing off the lake in the moonlight, he hoped would have received his Dad's approval had he been there to see him. He so wanted to believe that he knew and would be smiling.

'So this was a snap decision,' Ruth teased him, when he said he was sorry but that he didn't have a ring.'

'Hardly snap Ruth, just better than the last time I hope,'

'You've been practicing Harry,'

'Only for about a year,'

'And you're presuming that I'll say yes this time?' was the last thing that she remembered before he leaned in and kissed her.

Indoors, with Lucy and Callum in their rooms and with the children asleep, Graham assuming that Harry and Ruth were in bed, was about to lock the front door when Catherine stopped him.

'I'm not positive but if you'd seen the look on his face before they went out there, I'm sure that's what he's going to do.'

'Wow married, Dad and Ruth.'

'Yes Graham, do you have a problem with that because I don't? It's what they both want and deserve.'

'I'm not disagreeing Catherine I think it's wonderful, but why tonight?'

Catherine despaired, not for the first time about the romantic nature of the men in her family.

'We keep this to ourselves Graham, we leave it to them to tell us, no comments, now go to bed.'

* * *

'So when do we tell them Harry?'

'I haven't thought that far ahead Ruth,' could have gone on for a lot longer, had they not realised that they faced the real possibility of being locked out.

Harry had scored full marks on the romance chart and they'd stayed outside far longer than he'd first intended given how cold it was, as their feet crunched into the snow towards the front door, still wrapped together on what was now Christmas Day.


	21. Chapter 21

'Fast asleep,' Ruth assured Harry, walking into the kitchen where he was making tea after she'd popped into Thomas's bedroom and kissed his sleeping form. It was how it was and had always been since the first day that he'd come home with them. A ritual that they had never broken, a promise to each other that no matter how tired they were or whatever the time, one or both of them would make sure he was asleep before they turned in. Tonight was no different other than it was now Christmas morning, they were in Canada and Harry had just asked her to marry him.

'You'll have to stop that,' referred to the smile on his face as broad as an ocean and the fact that if he walked around all day grinning, that one or probably more of the adults would ask him what he was grinning about, or in Catherine's case probably guess.

'That or they'll think I'm pregnant, which I'm not by the way, although I won't give them the satisfaction by denying it,' she told him.

'We could soon rectify that,' received a we've already discussed this Harry and I'm tired look, before they tumbled into bed, blissfully happy until six the following morning when above their heads in Graham and Lucy's bedroom, Christmas arrived like a tornado in the form of Alice and Thomas.

Having peeped into their room and found Harry and Ruth asleep, Thomas had somehow managed to drag one of their sacks of goodies up the stairs and into one of the other bedrooms. Unable to sleep with the racket that was going on, Catherine had persuaded Callum to make some coffee and then in her words, 'If you can't beat them join them.'

His 'what about Ruth and Harry, shall I wake them?' Had received a 'and you think that they're sleeping through this?' response.

If you couldn't get excited on Christmas morning when Santa Claus had visited and left you a sack full of presents and get away with the fact that you'd woken the entire household in the process, it really wouldn't have been fair would it. In this particular case, four of the six adults who had been woken by the squeals, had decamped to the sitting room six hours after they'd gone to bed. The designated organisers of the resulting chaos namely Lucy and Graham had bought two of almost everything which was now in a single mixed up heap on the floor.

'You'll get yours later,' from Ruth, referred to a packet of chocolate buttons that Harry was eyeing up which didn't count as breakfast unless you were two or six, as his daughter and Callum arrived with the coffee tea and toast.

The planning for this moment and for what was to happen throughout the remainder of the day had largely been down to Graham and Lucy, but with the agreement that the cost would be shared equally with Callum and Catherine. As far as the Santa sacks were concerned the cost had been minimal. It was Alice's first real Christmas and she was currently playing with an empty box and they'd listened to what their father and Ruth had told them about Thomas and not to over indulge him. They knew that he had a passion for drawing and in amongst the other small gifts that littered the floor there were pencils, crayons, colouring books and paper. They watched on fascinated and with more than a hint of sadness, as the small boy with a smile that could light up a room was proudly showing Harry and Ruth what Santa had brought him.

* * *

'I'm fine Daddy, it's watching Thomas that's done it, he's just so lovely,' was Catherine's less than convincing explanation to her father, who had seen his daughter flee and was now frantically searching the kitchen for a box of hankies. It was years since she'd called him Daddy or he'd seen her cry and it was a wake - up call as to how vulnerable she'd been as a child. Now though he wasn't convinced about her explanation. It reminded him of Jane on the night when she'd dropped the bombshell that she was pregnant with Graham, when they'd made no plans to have a baby, but he knew better than to suggest it to Catherine, she would tell him in her own good time. If he was right though and he was going to be a grandfather again for a second time, then he and Ruth would need to buy a bigger house, but where was the question.

'We'll be back in a minute,' was in response to Thomas's voice asking where Harry had gone.

* * *

On what was to become a day that would exhaust Harry, this was the first of several unexpected and extraordinary conversations that he would have with his children and their partners, the next of which was with his son.

'Until now I'd never put you down as an organiser,' was Harry's compliment to Graham who was sorting the pile of presents whilst admiring the latest of Thomas's drawings, as Alice demolished a small set of building bricks. The kitchen was a buzz of activity and they'd been banished on childminding duty and Callum to the wood shed to fetch a wheelbarrow full of logs.

'It wasn't my forte was it? Catherine was always the organised one who had her life mapped out,' sounded like an apology, having mistaken Harry's remark to have been a criticism which it wasn't and Harry rectified. 'But once I met Lucy and then Alice came along things had to change, because child care in Canada costs an arm and a leg and we can't afford it, so one of us has to stay at home. I was the obvious choice and I'm enjoying being a stay at home Dad,' he told him, as Harry waited to see where this was going. 'The thing is Dad and what I want to tell you is that Lucy had some problems when Alice was born and we can't have any more children. We want to live near family but her parents are crap as you well know, so that leaves you,' sounded like a backhanded compliment until Graham continued. 'Now that you've got Ruth and Thomas, we want to move our family back to the UK. Lucy can get a job anywhere with her qualifications and we've talked about it, but we want to know what you and Ruth think before we make our final decision?' couldn't be answered, as Callum staggered in with another basket of logs with a comment that sounded remarkably like 'all right for some.'

If Harry hadn't already know that for all his faults that Catherine loved Callum, he'd have responded in the time honoured way, instead of which he squeezed Graham's hand and nodded. He was delighted and he knew that Ruth would be as well at the prospect of yet another branch of their family living close by, but not so sure about the idea of them becoming permanent baby sitters.

* * *

Their Christmas lunch, served at a table with a view over the snow covered garden couldn't have gone much better. Thomas sitting on a pile of cushions was at the head of the table with Ruth and Harry either side of him, Alice in her highchair at the other flanked by her parents and Callum and Catherine in the middle. It was traditional in every sense in that the children were both dressed in their new ' _Its Christmas'_ jumpers and wearing party hats, everyone had been ordered that they had to pull a cracker and read whatever ridiculous motto was inside and wear their hat which in Harry's case was a crown, that had been swopped on his insistence with Graham who was wearing one that was pink, before Harry was asked to carve the turkey.

It didn't matter that most of Alice's food was missing her mouth and landing on the table or that Thomas who had been talking twenty to the dozen had got hiccups, they were all happy for different reasons and with more secrets than a spooks fest, most of which Harry now knew. That it made a change from being on the grid, certainly during the days of Adam and Zaf, when he'd often felt that he'd been the last to know _what the buggers_ _had been up to,_ made it even more than pleasing. He was a very happy man intent on enjoying the rest of his day.

'I'll drink to that,' was his response to Graham's toast of Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, as he put the icing on the cake for Thomas by setting fire to the Christmas pudding.

Those that had cooked dinner didn't do the washing up was another of the house rules, that saw Harry in the kitchen with Callum washing and him drying what was left over after a crammed full dishwasher. Throughout dinner, Callum had been more than attentive where Catherine was concerned and had managed to ensure that she'd avoided drinking without anybody other than Harry noticing. He might not particularly like his potential son in law, but having consumed several glasses of wine during the course of his dinner he had mellowed and with Ruth's insistence that had come in the form of _don't be Grinch Harry, you might actually get to like him if you try,_ he felt obliged to make an effort. Callum was after all an exceptional section chief that had battled against Erin to orchestrate his release and apart from his childish sense of humour that annoyed him, he didn't really have grounds to dislike him. Besides which he was part of this family that Graham wanted to preserve and it would be churlish of him to side-line him because of his own personal prejudices.

'Rather than falling asleep, do you fancy a breath of fresh air Callum,' he suggested, when they were heading back towards the sitting room, with no intension of raising anything confrontational that would make Callum feel uncomfortable once they got outside and at the same time gain some extra brownie points with Ruth.

Life and in the most unlikely of situations had a way of sorting itself out and it was here that Ruth found them half an hour later, by which time Harry had barely said a word but had realised just how much Callum loved his daughter and that maybe he'd misjudged him. He was prevented from starting a conversation when Callum poured them another glass of wine and said that he wanted to talk to him. Here goes thought Harry, steeling himself for the _'I've got your daughter up the duff sir please forgive me,'_ conversation.'

'As far as Catherine's concerned, you're a very hard act to live up to Harry and I'm sure you don't think me worthy of your daughter,' was Callum's opening salvo and certainly not what Harry was expecting. He didn't know how to respond other than to day yes, so he didn't. 'Despite me appearing stupid at times Catherine loves me and puts up with me and we make each other happy.'

'I know,' Harry managed.

'There's more,' brought another revelation and with it the turning point in his opinion of Callum's sincerity, and the answer to the only real objection that Harry had had about his relationship with Catherine.

'If there's one thing that getting to know you and Ruth has taught me, it's that balancing what we do as a job with a home life is virtually impossible, so now that I'm with Catherine permanently so to speak, I have every intention of leaving the service,' was staggeringly perceptive and what Harry needed to hear, given that Callum generally liked to play the fool.

Ruth's timely interruption, telling them that they were needed because the children were about to open their presents, prevented Harry answering and being over- zealous in his praise of Callum. He'd made a start, it was Christmas and there were more important things to be done. He'd also had several glasses of wine and was struggling to cope with so many revelations in such a short space of time. Ruth was far better than he was when it came to listening to people bearing their souls, he'd heard enough for one today, he needed her to sooth him and he needed time with Thomas.

As it had been a year ago when they'd spent Christmas Day with Rose and Michael, Ruth was sitting on the settee watching a floor full of children opening their presents. This time though Harry wasn't with her, he'd been summoned to sit on the floor by Thomas who had opened his main present. It wasn't large because it had to be taken home and it certainly hadn't been expensive but they'd put a lot of thought into what they bought him. Nothing involving cars had been the priority but they wanted it to be something that he could relate to in the here and now and visualise when he was away from home. Catherine had done the on line research for them and had found him a build your own seaside scene with every imaginable thing that you might find on a beach. As Alice tottered about pushing her new doll in a tiny pram with Lucy in her wake, Ruth barely noticed her. She was mesmerized by the scene in front of her. She might as well have been sitting in the room on her own such was her attention on Harry with Thomas. He looked like a father with his son.

'He's in his element isn't he,' said Catherine, sitting down beside her and handing her a cup of tea, referring to Harry not Thomas who was sorting out some pieces under Thomas's direction as Callum added another log to the fire and then sat down next to Catherine. For just one tiny moment Callum found himself about to make a comment about how the mighty had fallen but didn't, mentally telling himself not to undo what had been done because he could see what Catherine meant. There was so much more to life that chasing the greater good and Harry had found it and good luck to him. He and Catherine were flying home in a couple of days which meant that they would miss Thomas's birthday, but needs must he was on duty over New Year and then he'd need to talk to Erin.

'I really wish that we didn't have to go home so early,' Catherine commented, as though she'd read Callum's mind.

So do I thought Ruth, who had become really fond of Catherine, although once she and Callum had gone, it would give her and Harry a better chance to get to know Lucy and for them spend more time with Alice.

* * *

Two days later.

'This wedding Harry,' broke the silence. It was something that they hadn't discussed since he'd proposed, but with Graham and Lucy driving Catherine and Callum to the airport with the promise that they'd stay overnight if the weather was bad they had time, and it was at the top of Ruth's wanting to talk to Harry about list. Thomas and Alice had been washed and changed and were in bed, so they were indulging themselves by lying full stretch on the sofa listening to something classical on the radio, with only the lights from the Christmas tree illuminating the room. Ruth wanted the wedding to be quiet without any fuss but with her closest friend being the vicar's wife and with their now extended family, it seemed virtually impossible without upsetting someone. There was also need to tell Thomas before they told anyone else and to see if he understood what them getting married meant.

Her attempts to get Harry to agree to her not getting dressed up were fruitless as were her protestations that she didn't need a new dress.

'Ruth it's our wedding and I agree with you, I'm all for keeping it quiet. But if Graham and Lucy come over then they'll be five children watching, so I don't fancy our chances do you?'

'I just don't want a lot of fuss Harry that's all.'

'Then there won't be I promise you,' was followed most inappropriately by 'Christ' as two small eyes looked down at him from the back of the settee and a voice asked him, 'if they were tired?'

'Harry would answer his question,' she told Thomas whilst she went into the kitchen and put the kettle on and did either of them fancy a mince pie?'

There was something to be said for trackers they decided when an hour later they were still in the children's bedroom with Ruth reading the potted version, in other words she was attempting to turn more than one page at a time, of the compendium of children's stories that had been amongst Thomas's presents. With Alice awake as well they had little chance of getting back to the discussion about the wedding and were resigned to waiting until they went to bed. Then Harry's phone rang.

'Hi Dad I hope I haven't disturbed you,' was Graham saying that Catherine's flight had just left but that it was snowing so he and Lucy were going to spend the night at the flat. He hoped that he and Ruth were coping and Alice was OK and that they'd be back around lunchtime tomorrow.

Ruth had the same _don't be a Grinch_ look on her face which he wasn't as it happened. If this was what the future held then he was happy about it, but it had been an emotional day and he was tired in the sense that he needed to go to sleep before he attempted to get his head around the implications of so many conversations.


	22. Chapter 22

'That's just because you've been bottling things up Harry,' and 'who are all these children that you're talking about?' had been Ruth's measured response, to him telling her why he'd been yawning and had been miles away when they'd been enjoying breakfast. They'd had a wonderful Christmas surrounded by his family and Ruth had said yes, she'd marry him. He had never felt this happy and yet he was troubled. For the last couple of nights it had been well after midnight by the time that they'd turned in and he still hadn't had a chance to talk to Ruth about the conversations that he'd had with Catherine and Graham. What he'd first perceived to be the impact of having an extended family virtually on their doorstep, had gone from being a happy one, to one that was completely irrational in a house filled to the brim with children and he and Ruth arguing because they'd forgotten to buy the nappies, with years ahead of them before they'd have a moment to themselves.

'Harry this is ridiculous it's never going to happen, what we have is special and once we get home life can only get better,' referred to the fact that they were going to get married and that the last thing that Graham and Lucy intended to do was to encroach on their everyday lives or them on theirs, besides which, coming back to the UK didn't necessarily mean that they wanted to live on the island.

'I rather suspect that they do Ruth, want to live on the island that is. Graham was talking about getting involved in conservation and Lucy working at the hospital so what do they propose doing with Alice?'

Despite what he was saying, she knew that it wasn't the thought of having more children in the house that was bothering him, but an overload of adults much younger than they were and she could concur with that. Adults came with their own problems and somehow he'd managed to convince himself that they'd spend the rest of his days warring between the guilt that he was feeling at not wanting to have his children in their pockets, as opposed to the ordered and gentle pace of life that they'd created for themselves. She also knew that both Catherine and Graham although they were delighted to have been reconciled with their father, appreciated that his current focus had to be on them as a couple and more importantly on Thomas. Harry though was clearly worried and if she wasn't able to convince him otherwise then they needed to talk to Graham and Lucy when they get back, although she very much doubted that at their age they'd want to live in the middle of nowhere like they did. That left Stornoway and all its amenities, where they'd be able to make friends of they own age and had dozens of nurseries where Alice could go, even if they had to help them pay for it.

What she really wanted to tell him was that all this worrying was rather defeating the object of him wanting to spend time on their own, when the children were currently contentedly reconstructing Thomas's beach minus the pebbles that she'd removed in case Alice decided to swallow one. She and Harry were relaxing in front of the picture window overlooking the garden and for all intents and purposes were alone for the first time in days with the prospect of hours of together time before Graham and Lucy got back, so they should be making the most of it. As agitated as he was he was still manging to draw concentric circles on her feet, the first intimate gesture away from the bedroom for days and she was enjoying it, their immediate future mapped out, even before she'd said yes she'd marry him. Before they'd left Scotland they'd made the decision that it would be a huge mistake to uproot themselves as a family at this early stage, added to which she loved her job and Thomas was really starting to blossom.

Bull by the horns time Harry my darling she decided, enough was enough. Any further conversation about Graham's impending move to the UK would put a damper on their entire day, so swinging her feet onto the floor which got his attention, she told him to 'budge up she was moving in.'

'We're babysitting now Harry how complicated can it be?' became the prelude to a kiss that Ruth deepened until she felt Harry relax against her, job done for now at least, as across the room the sound of two children playing contentedly together disappeared.

If it meant that they needed to buy a bigger house so that when Catherine and Callum came to stay with or without a new baby or if next Christmas they had a house full it wouldn't matter. They would always find _time for them_ was how she put it when they finally resurfaced for air.

'I don't know why you put up with me Ruth?' was his way for saying that he was sorry and a question to which he knew the answer, based on the fact that she'd dispelled his demons yet again. He was smiling as was she and it earned him another kiss.

* * *

Leaving the door open so that she could hear what was going on, Ruth headed back into the kitchen in search of something for lunch. Lucy had told her that she and Graham were going to shop on the way back and in the meantime, please could they eat as much possible of what was left over in the fridge, which didn't include bacon between two slices of bread please which had been Harry's lunch of choice.

'Grandad's seeping,' was Alice's attempt to tell Ruth why Harry wasn't with them when she and Thomas pottered in announcing that they were hungry. Ruth had been quite inventive in doing Lucy's bidding and there was very little left that warranted the label of edible. A pan of soup based on left over vegetables was simmering on the hob and two plates of sandwiches with various fillings were sitting alongside what was left of a fruit salad and trifle. Moving the pan to the back of the hob well out of the way of the two clambering children, she told them that she'd be back in a minute and not to touch anything.

Alice was right, Harry was dead to the world just where she'd left him, but looking calmer than he had all day. What had he said, I don't know why you put up with me? Well what a load of rubbish that was. It at was at moments like this that her heart went out to him and memories of their years together on the grid when he'd needed her reassurance, flooded back. The days when she'd dared to place her hand on his or rub his arm on the roof terrace were long gone, but she'd never forget them. They were all part of the fabric that had bound them together, why they were here now and were going to get married and why she loved him as much as she did. Because she did love him with every breath in her body so much so that she would do or go anywhere that he asked her, if it made him happy. Stop this she told herself it wasn't the time for nostalgia she had two hungry children waiting, so with a brief kiss, a whisper that she loved him and to sleep tight, she headed back into the kitchen.

Alice had done as she was told, but only Ruth suspected because she couldn't reach the table. Not to touch anything hadn't applied to the sandwiches, most of which lay open having been inspected by Thomas to discover their fillings. The children were standing side by side, their four wide eyes atop of which sat their Santa's little elves hats that they'd refused to relinquish, pleading with Ruth not to be cross. It took all her resolve not to laugh. The table looked like an explosion in a bread factory as she set about trying to put some sort of order into their already dwindling lunch. Prising the children apart she lifted Alice into her high chair and handed her another egg sandwich which appeared to be what she was currently eating before she turned her attention to Thomas. Drinks next which in the children's case had to be a glass of water, she turned the soup back on, grateful that if nothing else there would be something left for Harry when he woke up. Wiping the table and pondering if perhaps Harry was right and life ahead was always going to be this chaotic, she helped herself to a sandwich with an indistinguishable filling and sat down.

'We need to leave some of that for Harry,' she told Thomas when he asked if he could have another helping of trifle. He and Alice appeared to have developed a language all of their own which didn't involve talking, as they'd giggled their way through what remained of their lunch. It was lovely to see them getting along so well but it was a language that as yet she hadn't mastered, but she'd have to learn and quickly.

With lunch over and a visit to the bathroom to wash faces and fingers, she marshalled them back into the sitting room.

'Shush,' Thomas whispered to Alice, when he'd been to look at Harry and discovered he was still asleep.

Shush indeed thought Ruth would be blissful, but she needed to find something to occupy the children until Harry woke up. Up until then she hadn't had a chance to see the present that Thomas had been given but she was about to find out and to realise that for a six year old, not only was he artistic but what an impression the days on what she and Harry had christened their beach, had made. With Alice now happily building and then knocking over her pile of bricks, Ruth settled down and watched Thomas.

'It hasn't got any steps like ours, but I've drawn a picture of them for Alice,' he told her patting her arm to get her attention before handing her one of his several drawings. 'There's the fire that Harry lit, the day that we went there with Rory,' was just one of the many other things in his picture. The sand and the starfish that Harry had found and about everything else that they'd done or discovered during their various visits was there. But it was the way that he was describing the beach that was having the biggest impact on Ruth, as though he understood what they'd been trying to create. A special place where he was safe and where nobody could hurt him should have been way beyond a young child's comprehension, but it was exactly what they'd tried to do and had seemingly gone some way to achieving.

Explanation over it was time for Alice's nap, so Ruth settled her down in an adjacent chair and continued to watch Thomas drawing. The concentration on his face was extraordinary and she could almost hear the cogs in his head turning as he pieced together a picture of the village where they lived and their house. If nothing else, perhaps as far as he was concerned they had truly turned a corner.

* * *

After a day that had been frenetic and fired with emotions, what remained of their day until Graham and Alice arrived back had been calm and for Harry a lifesaver as he slept on undisturbed. The children had behaved in every sense of the word until they'd both fallen asleep at each end of the sofa whilst watching a film. Now that they were safely tucked in bed with dinner over, he and Ruth were sitting around the fire with the chance to have that oh so important conversation with Graham and Lucy.

Ruth kick started it by saying that there was something that they wanted to ask them.

He'd fallen in love with the simplicity of the way of life on the island when he and Catherine had come to stay with them and yes if he and Lucy could both find work then they'd like to live there, but they had absolutely no intension of living in their pockets, Graham assured them, or more precisely Harry. They'd been struggling with city life for a while and living in a small flat with a growing child wasn't what they wanted anymore and particularly for Alice who rarely saw other children.

'And now those two have met,' was said with a nod towards the bedroom, 'it gives Alice the chance to have the brother that we can't give her,' were powerful words and Ruth who had insisted on holding Harry's hand throughout the conversation had seen Harry's other hand moving in a familiar motion across his forehead. Whether he'd be able to hold back the tears that she knew were building she wasn't sure, or how Graham would react if he saw his father cry, prompted her to ask what if anything they thought they should do on Thomas's birthday.

'It was going to be a surprise but I'll go and get it,' Lucy suggested having jumped on the same bandwagon as Ruth, returning a few moments later with a Happy Birthday Thomas cake, loaded with chocolate buttons.

'His presents sorted out as well, we did that before we left Ottawa,' Graham told them, but with no clue as to what it was, before adding that they were knackered and that if it was OK with them, then he and Lucy were going to get an early night.

It was only nine o'clock and the first evening for a week when they'd had a real chance to spend some quality time on their own. They had one of two choices, they could either go to bed and talk there, or put some more wood on the fire and stretch out on the sofa. They chose that latter at least for the moment and while Ruth made some tea, Harry pondered the subject of their wedding which had been the other thing that he'd been mulling over. At home in Scotland where else could it be and yes in the church if that was what Ruth wanted, Harry agreed without argument. He'd been aiming for romantic and unusual and had quite liked the idea of a wedding on the beach. But Ruth was right it could easily be scuppered by the weather. What Ruth would wear was the next subject for discussion on Harry's list and yes the dress that she'd worn on New Year's Eve would be lovely and if she insisted that she wanted to wear that then he wouldn't argue. But this was their wedding and if it was going to be conventional then what she wore was supposed to be a surprise, certainly to him, so she needed another trip into Stornoway with Rose. What he wouldn't be shaken on was his insistence that he buy her an engagement ring and was adamant that he was also going to have a wedding ring, something that he had vehemently refused Jane. Guests well the family obviously and Malcolm if he wasn't off touring the globe somewhere plus of course Michael who was essential to proceedings, Rose and the children. The only question was when and that meant that they had to tell Graham and Lucy and discuss the logistics of them moving.

* * *

'And so to bed,' from Harry had resulted in them waking much later than normal.

'Please Harry,' had finally got Ruth what she'd been pleading for and what they both needed, before he'd folded her into his arms and told her to go to sleep and thanked her for being so lovely.

Graham had clearly taken on board what Harry had said, as a perceptive Lucy delivering their morning tea, told them that the children had already had their breakfast and that she and Graham were about to take them out for a walk.

'We'll be ages, Graham says you ought to try the hot tub,' she told them.


	23. Chapter 23

'Warmer?'

'Considerably thanks,' came as the result of them abandoning the great outdoors in favour of a bubble filled bath indoors where they'd spent half an hour defrosting their frozen limbs, having failed to get the generator to charge up. Hot tubs weren't for them, fashionable or not.

One more day to go and then they'd be flying home and in all honesty they couldn't wait. Canada had been lovely but it didn't have 'the edges' as Thomas called them, which meant that it lacked the sea, well at least not in the portion where they were staying. A long and late into the night conversation in which Ruth had said that she was prepared to sell her house to accommodate a fast growing Thomas had inspired Harry to turn his negative thoughts into positives and to find a solution that would avoid her having to do that. Every house that had ever been built had been designed for whatever purpose, even crofter's cottages that like Ruths had stood where it was for hundreds of years. These days, surroundings were taken into consideration and this one and in particular the picture window where Harry was currently sitting whilst Ruth dealt with the conundrum of their packing had become his starting point. He'd started to imagine and to that end he'd been in touch with Malcolm who had sent him the downstairs footprint of Ruth's house which included the garden. Despite the history that went with it, Ruth loved her house, he knew that and as far as the view from the garden was concerned, it was second to none. Even without Alice as a permanent feature, time was going to go quickly and Thomas would soon start to need more space of his own. Michael and Rose had been kind in accommodating Thomas to play with his friends but they needed to start reciprocating and Rory and Maisie would have to come to them as would other friends that Thomas was bound to make as the years went by. Even if they managed to sell Ruth's house, the chances of them finding another that they would want to buy was rare and finding one on their side of the island, so close to school and the village almost impossible.

There was also the small or not so small matter of the wedding for them to organise. Ruth would have been quite happy to pop into church exchange their vows and then go out for lunch somewhere, but Harry had gone from being a box of chocolates for every occaision man into one of life's great romantics and their wedding was going to be memorable one way or another, he could promised her that.

* * *

Ruth was wise enough to realise that whatever Harry was up to, he would tell her when he was ready. She had her work to go back to and for three days a week she'd be occupied. She knew that Graham had given Harry a list of things that he wanted researching but there was only so much time that he'd be able to spend on that and Harry wasn't someone that was likely to suddenly start getting involved in village life. With long dark winter days he'd have to spend hours on his own, something that would drive him crazy, he needed something to do.

For the moment though she had a problem that she couldn't solve, the not inconsiderable growing fear of the flight back. It wasn't the fear of crashing that bothered her it was the claustrophobia that affected her breathing that until they'd flown over, she hadn't realised that she had. Twelve hours in a tin can it didn't get much worse than that and Ruth was panicking big time.

With words of one syllable still emanating from the bedroom, Harry dragged himself from the comfort of where he had been sitting and armed with a cup of tea walked into the bedroom. For a man who had spent half his working life in the military, packing a suitcase no matter how large the contents was bread and butter, but he knew full well that Ruth's attempt to pack two days ahead of when she needed to was an attempt to conquer her mountain of demons at the thought of the flight home. Hindsight was a wonderful thing and maybe they should have forgone the holiday and with Graham's decision thank the lord they wouldn't have to do it again. But for now he needed to think of something helpful to say that wouldn't tip Ruth over the edge. In the end she made it easy for him, by collapsing onto a heap of yet to be packed luggage and declaring herself to be useless. If anything was going to be left behind, then it was currently her she told him, when his first attempt to tell her what a great job she was doing fell on deaf ears. A flustered Ruth, hot and bothered with her hair awry was usually very appealing, but this Ruth who was clearly upset with still two days to go before the drive to the airport was hard to see, especially for him.

'Everyone's scared of something Ruth,' him included, had him making up a ridiculous nonsense that she could see right through although the truth wouldn't have been helpful in the circumstances. In reality nothing scared him other than having finally arrived at where he wanted to be in his life, namely head over heels with someone who loved him unreservedly, he was worried that some as yet unknown illness would befall him and they he wouldn't live long enough for them to grow old together. This was beginning to sound Freudian with the makings of a suicide pact mid-way across the Atlantic and had Ruth not looked so distraught he'd have told her in an attempt to cheer her up. Considering the supposed nine lives that everyone had which in his case he'd used up more times than he cared to remember, he should last forever so he bit his lip, told her to sit tight he'd be back in a moment. He needed to make a call. He rang Malcolm.

'Yes they were fine, they just needed to come home sooner than they'd planned, he'd explain in full tomorrow if Malcolm could arrange it and contact Michael re their arrival time at the airport.'

Reliable as ever, it was less than fifteen minutes before his phone rang and their packing became a priority. They were booked on a flight that evening. A quick text to Graham saying that their plans had changed and that they were going home today and Harry was heading back into the bedroom.

* * *

Ruth stirred and opened her eyes. She was in bed, her bed at home and Harry was smiling at her and moving a stray strand of hair that had wandered across her eyes. No she wasn't dreaming it was real, she could hear the TV in the background with one of the children's programmes that Thomas liked. Christ it was Thomas's birthday, she sat bolt upright and wished she hadn't as the room spun. Vague memories of Ottawa airport, the flight and then hearing Michael's voice telling her how much they'd missed them were all she had as Harry thrust a cup of tea in her hand and told her she needed to take on fluids. An explanation much later in the day had her remembering that they'd visited the pharmacy at the airport where she'd been given some sort of pill that was designed to help her relax. She'd taken it in a rush without reading the instructions which clearly said that it should be taken with food. As a result, she'd slept through virtually all the flight, but because she hadn't eaten anything it had put her right out of it. It was quite harmless and once she ate something she'd be fine Harry had been assured, although apparently he'd created quite a stink at Glasgow airport when they'd had to change planes and someone had suggested she was drunk and was a disgrace as a mother. No more long haul flights ever, even if Graham didn't move back or Callum dragged Catherine off to Siberia Harry promised.

'I'll fetch the birthday boy and make you breakfast,' was superseded by Ruth desperately needing to use the bathroom and then not wanting to go back to bed, as Harry poured her a second cup of tea and left her listening to cartoons and Thomas's account of the flight that she'd missed and what fun it had been.

What did he want to do on his birthday didn't amount to much and certainly nothing that presented them with a problem. Could Rory and Maisie come to play, yes of course they could, in fact not unsurprisingly Rose had made a cake which she was going to deliver later. Did he want to go out for the day and if so where, was predictably yes please he wanted to go to the beach and would Harry light a fire for him. It felt all very familiar and more than that normal which made Ruth immediately feel better, but Harry wanted more from the day and for Thomas, another idea that had been brewing since they'd arrived in Canada and Thomas's desire to see bears. For all the fact that his life was complete with a soon to be wife, another chance to be a father and a grandfather to boot, there was something or more precisely someone that Harry still missed. The tough guy of Section D still missed his small dog who had been his constant companion throughout the lonely evenings when life had been less kind, and he still secretly yearned to replace her. He knew that he needed to discuss it with Ruth and then see what was out there but walks as a family would be so much enhanced if they had a dog with them and it would give Thomas some responsibility if he had to look after it.

Harry ponderings were interrupted by the phone ringing and a concerned Rose asking how Ruth was. She was fine, they had so much to tell her but it had to wait until she got there, confirmed what Rose hoped was an announcement that she'd been sure was going to happen over Christmas. She'd meant what she'd said when she'd pleaded with Ruth to come back when they'd seen them off at the airport. Family was a huge pull and Harry had been so excited at the prospect of meeting his granddaughter and at the back of Rose's mind was the chance that they'd want to stay there. The village needed new blood to chivvy it up a bit and add Harry into the mix whatever might have been his background, had made such a difference. If he and Ruth were going to get married and enhance their chances of adopting Thomas then she couldn't have been any happier. Thomas was a lovely gentle child and the perfect balance for her sometimes wayward Rory and Harry had been the catalyst in providing the time that she and Michael couldn't with their busy lives. The fact that he loved Ruth and her him shone like a beacon and a wedding in the village, how exciting would that be.

Quite who had the broadest smile on his face Ruth didn't know when Harry had broached the subject of them buying a dog. Thomas had flung himself at Harry telling him that he loved him, despite Harry telling him that getting a dog wasn't a birthday present and it wasn't a toy and if they got one, then Thomas had to realise that it would belong to all of them, not just him.

'Every day no matter what the weather, a dog would have to be walked either before he went or when he came back from school and he had to be part of that, did he understand that?'

He did and all the other rules that Harry came up with which included no dogs in bedrooms. That will be interesting to watch thought Ruth who'd seen the pictures and knew how for years, Harry had cuddled and talked to Scarlet in various rooms in his house, as though she'd been human.

More to the point, why on earth hadn't Harry said something months ago about wanting another dog, even before they'd had Thomas had been her only question to which he didn't have an answer but she'd ask him later. He'd spent days on his own when he been recuperating and she'd been at work but if that's what he wanted and he clearly did then providing it was well behaved and not too large, then he should start looking and yes tomorrow which was the last day before school started again.

Rose wasn't going to be deterred or put off by the 'I don't know what you're talking about,' look on Ruth's face. The screams from the sitting room at the prospect of a day at the beach and a party, had seen her leaving Harry to it and dragging Ruth into the kitchen.

'He has, he's asked you I can tell,' had Ruth confessing but making her promise that they still hadn't told Thomas and Harry wanted to tell Michael so would she keep it to herself.

'It's the perfect tonic for the village, what date did they have in mind was Ruth pregnant?' were just two of the questions that Rose threw at her.

If she hadn't needed to tell an excited Rose to keep her voice down, she have been tempted to say she was, just to see her expression, but she told her the truth and that they'd illuminated that idea and that they were perfectly happy with Thomas. Anyway, Rose had to rush she'd be back with the cake later saw Ruth drawing breath and contemplating a day with three excited children as Rose rushed past Harry planting a kiss firmly on his cheek before telling her brood to behave themselves. Talk about welcome home Ruth thought, it had arrived with a bang and the day was only just beginning.

It wasn't really beach weather but it didn't matter, it was degrees warmer than it had been in Canada and Harry was back where he wanted to be on the beach. He collected his driftwood for the fire and Ruth was sitting on a rock beside him looking so relaxed and such a contrast to how she'd been the last few days. Unlike him she'd slept for the best part of twenty four hours but he didn't care, she was happy again and that was all that mattered. Thomas was racing along in front of them seven years old he'd told him from the moment that he'd opened his eyes, now chasing the football that Rose and Michael had given him as a birthday present and Rory had just kicked. Maisie thought football was silly, it was for boys and pretending to be grown up was helping Ruth with the picnic. Add a dog to the mix and there would have been nothing else that Harry could have possibly wanted and after tomorrow maybe even that was only a stone's throw away.

Harry looked up at the clear blue Scottish sky and breathed deeply. Maybe he'd been wrong and there was something out there far greater than mere mortals like him could comprehend and retribution was sometimes metered out in happiness. Today it certainly felt like it.


	24. Chapter 24

Ruth had been waiting hours for this moment, when they'd end their day as they always did gravitating to the sofa as a family. They'd had a wonderful family day and now at the end of it, Thomas was sitting on her lap and enjoying a cuddle before he went to bed. Harry had been phenomenal in getting them home early and in a million years she'd never know how he'd managed it without help. Dealing with their luggage, her in a state that left her unable to do anything and still managing to keep an eye on Thomas. Every fibre of her body was alive with her love of him and the child that she was holding, her face buried in his hair.

'No puppies and no silly names, I'm not walking around the coastal path shouting Fluffy,' said Harry, bringing her out from her daydreaming, 'I've had a word with Michael and there's a reputable unwanted dog's home just north of Stornoway.

'Definitely not Fluffy then,' she responded, continuing to run her fingers through Thomas's hair and looking at Harry with a who the hell calls a dog Fluffy look.

He looked so bloody serious when in reality it wasn't. They were going to choose a dog how difficult could it be?

'Right bedtime,' she told the birthday boy who had been listening to the discussion about the dogs home and had already made up his mind as to what sort of dog he would like. It had to be brown or white because he'd asked Harry to tell him about Scarlet and he'd shown him a photograph. She was an old dog Harry had told him and couldn't walk very far, but their new dog would be much younger and would need lots of exercise. It would be fun choosing it as well and giving it a name, but definitely not Fluffy that was a cat's name, Harry had said so.

'Can we forget Fluffy for a moment and talk about how much I love you?' Ruth asked him when an hour later when they were finally in bed, having tided up the kitchen after the party and piled Thomas's accumulated toys into a basket in the corner. Both awake unlike the previous night, they'd drawn back the curtains to let the moonlight stream in and had opened the window just a tiny crack sufficient that they could hear the sea crashing against the rocks as the tide came in.

Unusually for Harry he didn't respond to what was Ruth's less than subtle suggestion that they make love, but told her that he had an idea and if he didn't tell her tonight that he'd never get to sleep, pulling her up so that she was lying with her back against him and with her head resting on his chest.

'Look at that vista Ruth, even at night it's beautiful. I know that it's your favourite view and all that's stopping us having it all the time is the side wall of the house. I've been chatting to Malcolm and he's got a friend who's an architect. Apparently with the right planning and some good builders, we could demolish the end of the house and build out.'

Ruth hadn't thought beyond them moving but Harry obviously had and the careworn years that had haunted him appeared to have been rolled away. In the moonlight he looked almost childlike such was his enthusiasm.

'There aren't any buts to this Ruth, times move on,' he continued, 'I've researched it down to the finest detail. Modern shutters would solve the problem of the prevailing wind and can you just imagine us sitting in a new kitchen with a view overlooking the sea?'

Ruth could, but she could also see months of upheaval on an island that even in the summer was prone to bad weather.

'What did you once say to me Ruth, where's your sense of adventure, well I've found mine. We could really make this house our own and just think how much fun we'd have doing it.'

'Make me a hot chocolate and I might just listen,' had Harry giving her a kiss that said I knew that I'd win you round and then heading downstairs to the kitchen, before coming back with his computer.

'Twelve hours on a plane with no one to talk to Ruth, I had to do something,' had produced drawings of exactly what Harry envisaged, although he couldn't put claim to having done it without help, 'Malcolm and his friend are packed and ready if we're interested,' and Ruth was sold on the idea, if only to see Malcolm again. She'd spent years watching Harry repressed, with nothing more in his life than his work and yet here he was as animated about something that could change their lives forever. Despite this they did need to try and get to sleep even with the adrenalin that was now coursing. They'd promised Thomas that they'd go to the dog's home tomorrow and a promise was just that.

'I still like the idea of Fluffy,' Ruth kidded him as he turned off his computer and curled in beside her.

* * *

The selection of dogs and cats that greeted them on their arrival was far larger than they had been led to believe. The manager who announced herself to be Sharon assured them that every animal was in good health had all the vaccination certificates that were required by law. She needed to know about them she told them, a dog was for life and it was important that whoever took one of their animals would guarantee to look after it.

'Forms first,' she told them in a broad island accent, 'and then have a look around and see what you think.'

'How is it possible,' Ruth whispered once they were out of Sharon's hearing, 'that on a small island there could be so many animals in need of a home,' as they walked the rows between the pens, being encouraged by the occupants that they were the one that should be leaving with them. It was heart breaking to anyone who liked animals and they both fell into that category and they were on the point of quitting and going outside to catch their breath when Thomas stopped and pointed. It is quite often said that a dog chooses you rather than the other way round and rather than call him to get a move on, Ruth walked back to where Thomas was standing. A small black and tan dog of no particular breed had wandered quietly forward with what Ruth later described as an irresistible face. It or as they later found out he, wasn't barking at them he was just wagging his tail and had put his head on one side as much as if to say it's me you're looking for. Leaving the other beleaguered faces behind some of which would have been impossible to love, Harry gave Sharon a donation and said that they'd made a decision and that they'd take Whisky. According to the records he was four years old and had been with them only a few short weeks. He was housetrained and was good with children but that his owners had moved to the mainland and hadn't been able to take him, for what reason they couldn't be told.

'You can bring him back any time up until a month if he doesn't suit,' Sharon told Harry shaking his hand as Thomas took the other end of the rope that Whisky was tied to and led the way to the car. Ruth was pretty sure that a fate that she didn't want to think about would be met by dogs that were brought back and tried not to think about the others that they'd left behind, she just wanted to go home. Harry had made a provisional appointment at the vets for the next day, but in the meantime they needed to find the nearest pet shop and buy him or precisely Whisky a bed and some bowls for his food. Armed with far more than Scarlet had ever had in her lifetime, they set off for home.

* * *

Leaving Harry and Whisky behind the following morning and climbing the hill to school proved to be a far more emotional experience for Ruth than for Thomas. She'd imagined having to drag him out of bed with lots of protests about wanting to stay at home, when in fact it was her that felt strangely bereft at having to leave Harry. He had a busy morning ahead of him she knew that, with a visit to the vet to get Whisky checked over and then he planned to visit the Town Hall and see if he could arrange an early meeting with the planning officer. She on the other hand had a class full of what turned out to be eager to be back with their friends six year olds and upwards to deal with, one of which was new. First and foremost she had to call the register and deal with assembly which Michael always attended. The last time she had seen Michael or precisely he had seen her, she'd been drugged up to the eyeballs and he'd apparently helped Harry get her into the house. She still felt embarrassed but Michael being Michael as calm as ever just said good morning Ruth and had she had a good holiday. The new boy that was starting school that day was called Liam and according to his records lived with his Mum. What if anything had happened to his father was quite rightly confidential, but in the short term until he got his feet under the table and made friends, Ruth decided to partner him up with Thomas. She hoped that it would also have the desired effect of making Thomas concentrate on his lessons which didn't always happen when he was sitting next to Rory something that she still needed to discuss with Harry. By mid- morning when the bell went for break and they assembled in the playground for their milk and biscuits, two had become three and it very much looked as though her efforts had had the opposite effect.

By lunchtime Ruth was home grateful that she'd got through her first half day. The holiday seemed like a lifetime ago and this was reality. Except it wasn't how it had been. There was a message on the table from Harry to say that Malcolm and his friend would be arriving later that evening, that Whisky had passed his medical with flying colours and that he'd gone back to Stornoway for a meeting with the planning officer. See you about three, I love you, H x and that was it. Making herself a sandwich and cup of tea, she wandered outside and to the back porch and sat down. If Harry got his way then the wall behind her would be gone, she was in effect sitting in their new kitchen with an extra bedroom above it that would be theirs. The sitting room would become half as big again as it was now and there might even be enough space for Thomas to have a playroom. Not having to put his drawings away each evening to ensure that they didn't get torn would be a real bonus and when it got to the stage where he had homework it would be somewhere away from the television where he could concentrate. All in all Harry had thought it through and in the blink of an eye she'd jumped onto the bandwagon of his expectation. Harry was right it was the most idyllic of settings and they were so lucky. She'd just closed her eyes and was dreaming of the warm summer days that were to come and was half asleep when Harry arrived home.

'July,' he said kissing her, 'for the wedding, I fancy July and here for the reception, what do you think?'

'You've been thinking again,'

'I always think best in bed.'

He did Ruth knew that, but this was an invitation and albeit via the back door one that was very tempting. It had been over a week since they'd been alone and she'd missed that side of their relationship as much as Harry had. One of them had to collect Thomas in less than an hour and it seemed clinical going to bed and timing what you did. Still every second she thought about it time was ticking away so she just nodded and followed Harry back indoors. Just as he'd done twelve hours ago, Harry opened the window but this time they were naked. That Harry loved her with every breath in his body had never been in doubt and the gentleness and consideration he had always shown her when he made love had never wavered. The words honeyed and with hesitation at the start of their relationship had grown to be confident and with a sincerity that kept Ruth warm at night and with a smile on her face during her days. It amounted to cheating to ask someone questions when they were barely breathing and you'd just taken their hand and joined it with yours that was working you both up to another orgasm as Harry was doing, whilst the waves crashed onto the rocks in time with the music that was playing in the background. But Harry needed this to relax and overcome the million and one things that he'd coped with in the last twenty four hours and so did she. The release was exquisite albeit far too soon as Harry rolled away and fell asleep. Ruth would have liked nothing more than to have joined him but duty called. Completely sated, she grabbed a quick shower, dragged on her jeans and a heavy sweater and prepared to walk back up the hill to collect Thomas. There was a note for Harry when he woke up.

'July it is. x'

Whisky had walked well on his new lead without pulling and his reputation as being good with children was proven as a collection of small hands took it in turns to pat him. Ruth was sitting on the church wall taking a short breather before she and Thomas headed home when Rose appeared from nowhere and with her a woman that Ruth didn't recognise. Introducing her as Mary, she was Liam's mother new to the village and wanting some advice as to how best to help Liam to integrate when she was a single Mum. She said it as though it was some sort of stigma that would set Liam apart from the other children when in fact the village was diverse to the point where the mishmash of relationships amongst the parents accepted anything.

'Have you got time for a cuppa,' Rose suggested, with a look that said I could do with some help here please.

Ruth hadn't been in Rose's kitchen since before Christmas and it felt good to be back as Rose produced the inevitable plate of home-made biscuits and made the tea. Quite what Rose was expecting her to say to Mary she wasn't sure, but whatever Mary's circumstances, nothing could match what she had faced when she'd first arrived there. Would it be disloyal to tell Mary what had happened to Thomas, Ruth thought not, all the adults on the island knew and had accepted that she and Harry weren't married and were fostering.

'We'll be going for a walk on the coastal path on Sunday if you'd like to come,' Ruth heard herself saying, before telling Rose that they needed to get home because they had visitors arriving.

* * *

Harry was standing in the kitchen peeling the veggies for dinner, the trout that he'd be wrestling with sitting on the side topped and tailed and ready to be introduced to the oven. Ruth saw none of this, all she saw was Malcolm with his lopsided grin sitting on the bench next to Harry as though he belonged there. It had been almost three years since she'd last seen him and he didn't look a day older.

'Is it really you,' she said giving him an almighty hug almost unbelieving that he was actually sitting in their kitchen.

'I don't know what you've been doing to Harry, he's a changed man,' Malcolm whispered after Brian had been introduced and had gone up to his room to unpack, 'it's just so good to be here with you both.'

A small voice that had so far remained silent but whose owner had been watching the proceedings with interest spoke up. He knew that someone called Malcolm was coming to stay with them and that he'd known Harry and Ruth for a long time. What they hadn't reckoned on and caused the room on mass to hold its breath, was how Thomas would perceive Malcolm and what he might say.

'I'm Thomas,' he said holding out his hand like a grown up, copying what had preceded Brian disappearing upstairs, 'are you a friend of Daddy's?'

Momentarily thrown by Thomas's behaviour but unaware that this was the first time that Thomas had called Harry Daddy, Malcolm stepped forward, shook his hand and said yes he was.

By now Ruth had put both hands in front of her mouth and was staring at Harry as much as if to say did you hear what he said, as Harry standing on the other side of the counter with his mouth open stared back.

'I'm going to feed Whisky now,' said the star of the show, stirring the now stationary puppets back into action as Ruth poured herself a glass of wine and told him that he was a good boy and not to give Whisky too much.

Over dinner after Thomas had gone through his usual before going to bed routine which tonight fell to Ruth, the serious business of talking about the possibilities of altering the house inevitably came to the fore. Several bottles of wine later having decided that it would be best left until the morning, Malcolm who was helping Ruth wash up, raised the subject of Thomas and how in a month of Sunday's he'd never pictured Harry wanting another child.

'Neither did he or I for that matter, but then as we know not everything's mapped out for us is it Malcolm and we really do love him,' made Malcolm smile.

'What?' she asked him.

'It's just hearing you say we about everything, I think it's lovely.'


	25. Chapter 25

When they'd gone to bed, neither of them had made mention of what Thomas had said. Ruth, because she'd been waiting for Harry to say something and Harry concerned that Ruth might be upset because there was little chance, if ever, of Thomas calling her Mummy. Ruth woke relaxed, Harry didn't.

Malcolm woke up with a hangover having drunk far too much wine and went downstairs to find Ruth in the kitchen humming happily whilst rifling through the fridge for the contents of what looked like an enormous fry up designed to start their day with a bang and Harry multi-tasking by pouring over his computer whilst persuading Thomas to hurry up and eat his breakfast.

'Coffee's there Malcolm help yourself,' said Ruth cheerily over her shoulder as Harry pinched a piece of Thomas's toast in a effort to speed up proceedings.

The clock ticked round and it was time for Thomas to be walked to school but it wasn't one of the days when Ruth had lessons and she was still in her dressing gown. She wanted to test the water and see if Thomas's comment had been a one off and the only way to do that was for her to pre-empt a repeat. No time like the present she thought as she watched Thomas struggling to pull his coat on whilst looking for Whisky's lead. The dog needed a walk and with them all gone it would give her some quiet time to really talk to Malcolm before the day got underway, so taking a deep breath she took the gamble.

'I'm cooking breakfast for Uncle Malcolm sweetheart, I'm sure Daddy will take you,' she suggested, with less confidence than her voice portrayed.

It was clear that Harry had heard her but how he would react she didn't know, until he got to his feet as though what she'd said was an everyday occurrence, shuffling the pile of coats in search of his own before walking back across the kitchen and planting what Malcolm realised was the first kiss that he had seen between them in the almost nine years that he'd known them, on Ruth's cheek. Before pointing to the impending breakfast and telling her to save some of that for him and that he wouldn't be long.

'I'm sorry it's so chaotic this morning Malcolm, we're usually far better organised,' Ruth told him once the door closed behind the men in her life, going on to tell him how the previous couple of days had been a rollercoaster one way or another and that Whisky was a new acquisition.

'Very appropriate name for a dog of Harry's I would have thought,' said Malcolm grinning, until Ruth told him that Harry hadn't touched a drop of whisky for the best part of a year.

'I stand corrected,' said Malcolm, only to be interrupted by the arrival of Brian apologising for oversleeping.

'So how do you to know each other?' Ruth asked, unaware until now that Malcolm had had any friends other than Colin, which was ridiculous on reflection because he must have had some. They'd been neighbours when they'd been children and had been through senior school together and then life as it invariably did had taken them in different directions. He obviously had no idea as to what Malcolm had done for a living or his connection with her and Harry and didn't seem interested enough to press it. He was here for one reason only and had already had a quick look around upstairs and as soon as Harry made an appearance, he said in a voice that made him sound superior, he was looking forward to discussing their plans. Ruth refrained from saying that Harry had been up for hours, not quite sure what she made of Brian or whether or not she liked him. Still he was there to do them a favour and she shouldn't really have expected him to be a carbon copy of Colin.

Breakfast turned out to be quite a jolly affair with gentle looks that said we're OK aren't we, going back and forth between Ruth and Harry and Brian warming up and letting the cat out of the bag by waxing lyrical about his and Malcolm's misspent youth, most of which had involved scrumping for apples in the vicar's orchard. Ruth couldn't quite picture Malcolm in short trousers climbing a tree, his legs skinny as opposed to Harry's that still paced in a way that did unspeakable things to her body, but it had obviously happened. Dear sweet Malcolm sat through all the ribbing announcing that when he came to visit them again assuming that he was invited, he'd bring his shorts and prove to them that he still he had a fine pair of legs.

* * *

'So tell me more about Thomas,' Malcolm asked her when they were washing up again for the second time, and Harry and Brian had disappeared out into the garden armed with all sorts of equipment that meant nothing to Ruth. 'Was it difficult after Nico?'

It was an unexpected question and it threw her for a moment, as Malcolm apologised for being so insensitive, only for Ruth to tell him not to be silly.

'Nico was never mine to love,' she told him, 'although I did, but what I have now with Harry is, well I don't quite know how to describe it without sounding ….?'

'Romantic?' suggested Malcolm.

'Yes,' said Ruth, 'it is.'

'And always was, Harry would never have made it through his injuries if we hadn't been able to find you Ruth,' took her back to what was now over a year ago, realising how quickly time had gone and how much in their lives had changed.

'All the ridiculous barriers that we'd constructed over the years just fell away, the moment that I turned round to see Harry in the church,' she told him, 'I will never forget that moment. Right from the beginning we were happy, still terrified that something might happen to tear us apart again until we heard from Callum that they'd found Dolby. But it was when Graham arrived with Catherine that everything finally came together and Alice, well what can I say she's just the icing on Harry's cake.'

'And Thomas, how did he become a part of your lives?' Malcolm asked her again, getting back to his original question.

'Sorry Malcolm I'm rambling, well Thomas wasn't planned, far from it,' she continued, going on to explain how Graham and particularly Catherine had made less than subtle hints about what they got up to in the bedroom, was her description in an effort not to embarrass Malcolm. 'We did talk about trying for a child of our own but can you really see Harry changing nappies and me for that matter and then suddenly there was this tiny might who had lost everything that they were threatening to send to a children's home on the mainland.'

'Never!'

'Harry said it was inhumane and he was right,'

'Thomas?' Malcolm urged her, intrigued by Ruth's description of him as a tiny mite.

'Yes, he's a beautiful child that begs to be loved and Harry's been incredible, and as things have turned out it's the best thing that we've ever done.'

Ruth was clearly on a roll and Malcom wasn't about to stop her, so he just nodded.

'You wait until you really see them together Malcolm, they fit they really do and after what Thomas said yesterday, I couldn't be more happy,' required an explanation and Malcolm reiterating how pleased he was to be there. Malcolm really wanted to tell her that they _all_ fitted that she was too giving and shouldn't underplay her roll in having made this happen, but he didn't it would keep.

'Come on I think we deserve another cup of tea don't you and then I'll give you a tour of the garden, but you have to promise me that you're not going to rush off home any time soon, we've got so much more to tell you,' she said hugging him.

* * *

With the washing up finished Ruth made a pot of coffee before they headed out into the garden in search of Harry and to see what was happening. He was sitting under the veranda watching the world go by, but there was no sign of Brian.

'Over there,' Harry told them pointing towards the sea, where a red and black bobble hat bounced around, its owner taking photographs of the house from a distance. Ruth thought he looked like a character from _where's Wally,_ but he was Malcolm's friend and it would have been rude to say so.

'I know that he's a bit of an oddball,' said Malcolm, as though he'd read her mind and by way of an apology, when Harry said that he'd been ordered to wait where he was, 'but he's a brilliant and inventive architect and left to it, I'm sure that he'll come up with a whole host of ideas that you wouldn't have thought of, so bear with him.'

As they sat and waited, Malcolm took in the scene, still marvelling at how relaxed Harry and Ruth were with each other, whilst appreciating what a truly beautiful spot that they lived in, despite the fact that it was January and to Malcolm's way of thinking was bloody cold. Harry sitting with his legs stretched out in front of him his hands behind his head and Ruth without even realising it tucked tight against him her hand on his leg. She was right it was romantic, in a simple and almost ethereal sort of way. If Ruth was serious though and they would welcome him staying on after Brian had gone home then he'd certainly like to do so. It would give him the time to really reacquaint himself with the two people that he'd always considered to be his friends that at long last had been afforded the life that they both deserved.

Brian arrived back, announcing that he had all the photos that he needed and if Harry was ready then they should find somewhere quiet with a table where they could work. Both he and Ruth refrained from saying that they'd find it hard to find somewhere that was noisy as Harry led him back into the house with a quick glance back at Ruth who said she and Malcolm were going to have a walk around the garden and then maybe down as far as the coastal path, before she came in and thought about lunch.

The only table other than the one where they ate their meals was in a corner which was currently designated as Thomas's play space. It was covered with his drawings, which because they'd been so busy the previous evening Ruth hadn't piled together. They were priceless as far as they were concerned, a history of Thomas's life since he'd been with them and Harry was just about to lean over and gather them together when Brian stepped in.

'These are quite extraordinary,' he said, stilling Harry's hand, ' if they're your sons, he's clearly very talented.'

Not quite knowing how to reply but realising that Brian wasn't about to sweep them to one side, he told him that Thomas had an obsession with the local landscape and with drawing buildings in the village.

'That's exactly how I started, you should encourage him at every opportunity, he's a gifted little boy and maybe when he gets home he'd like to see what we've come up with regarding the house,' had Harry revising his opinion about stuffy Brian. Maybe he wasn't the arrogant prick that he'd thought him to be or the mad professor as Ruth had christened him. He just still couldn't get his head around his friendship with Malcolm who was an open book, but then who was he to judge, he'd been thought to be arrogant by better men than him.

* * *

On most days and on school days in particular, they always stuck to a routine and always ate together as a family. So after putting the casserole in the oven and telling Harry that they'd eat at five thirty, Ruth and Malcolm headed up the hill with Whisky in tow to collect Thomas from school. It was a beautiful afternoon, one of Harry's blue sky days and the higher they climbed, Malcolm who had arrived much later the previous evening got his bearings and a full appreciation as to why Harry didn't want to move to a different location.

The small group of buildings one of which was _the church in question,_ Ruth explained unnecessarily, but made Malcolm smile, the vicarage where their closest friends lived with their children and the school where a small group of parents were already waiting for their offspring, were the sum total of the centre of the village, she told him.

'What a wonderful setting for a school,' exclaimed Malcolm, but Ruth hadn't finished yet and taking his arm, she told him that there was something else that she wanted him to see, taking him up to The High Point and to her bench.

'I used to sit here for hours thinking about Harry, back in the day when I was Susan Barnes the writer,' she explained, 'look at that view Malcolm isn't it just beautiful, it became my salvation.'

With her honesty, she'd opened the door for Malcolm to tell her what he really wanted to.

'Don't ever underestimate your worth Ruth or think that you're silly. You're the kindest and sweetest person that I've ever known and a perfect balance for Harry. Whatever Thomas's background you're his Mum now and _fit_ just as much as Harry does.'

'You're a sweet man,' Ruth told him, squeezing his hand.

With that the school bell rang and with it a melee of young voices as they headed back towards the playground and Thomas. With their bags on the wall, Thomas, Rory and Liam were kicking a football and in no particular rush to go home. As the playground slowly emptied, parents with their offspring in tow stopped and said hello to both Ruth and Malcolm.

'You're right they're a friendly bunch,' was Malcom's observation.

'So you must be Malcolm,' said Rose appearing as if by magic and tapping him on the shoulder, inviting them to have a cup of tea and then calling to the boys that there were biscuits on offer if they came in and washed their hands. Maisie announced that she was Rory's twin to a now overwhelmed Malcolm surrounded by small children. Thomas of course took centre stage, this was his Uncle Malcolm he told everybody and he was staying with them. Malcolm tried to picture Harry in the same situation and the only similarity he could come up with, was that it was like the chaos of the meeting room, except that Adam and Zaf were wearing short trousers.

Ruth broke up the party by saying that they really needed to go, but not before telling Rose that weather permitting they were going for their customary walk to the beach on Saturday and that the children were welcome if they wanted to join them, and that she'd invited Mary and Liam.

'See you at ten,' said Rose predictably.

Why was it that children always manage to take their coats off and leave them with one of the sleeves inside out Ruth wondered, as she handed Whisky's lead to Malcolm and helped Thomas who was struggling to don his coat.

'See you tomorrow everyone,' she called back as they left the chaos of Rose's kitchen behind them and set off with her assorted little group in the direction of home, wondering how Harry was getting on with his drawings and hoping that he hadn't murdered Brian. With Thomas bouncing happily beside her and Malcolm in charge of Whisky, it felt good to be alive. Ruth was really happy.

'Are you coming to the wedding Uncle Malcolm?' Thomas asked him.


	26. Chapter 26

'Bye and thank you,' was the collective shout, as Brian disappeared in the direction of his plane, leaving Harry, Ruth and Malcolm to contemplate the rest of their week.

'Lunch first I think and then a visit to the DIY shop Malcolm,' from Harry, were just two of the things that were on their list as they drove away from the airport. It had been two weeks since Ruth had said yes and casting an eye in as many jewellery shop windows as possible so that she could choose a ring was at the top of Harry's agenda. Had Brian not been in the house then they'd have had an opportunity to discuss Thomas's latest revelation and Harry would have been able to tell Malcolm that he wanted him to be his best man, but they hadn't and Harry's frustration was building tenfold. For all his faults he was conventional and no matter how much Ruth protested that it didn't matter, to Harry it did. Getting engaged which they were, meant buying a ring and he was hell bent on doing it. Engineering a time when they could be on their own, especially when he wasn't known for his patience was another matter altogether and it certainly wasn't going to be today, as he bit his lip when they walked past the first of several jeweller's shop windows on their way to the restaurant.

* * *

Brian might have been a pain to have around whereas Malcolm had fitted in as they knew he would, the dream guest that they'd welcome any time. Now on a much warmer Saturday morning he was helping Harry load the car as Ruth busied herself with Thomas. Today was going to be different, in that in addition to Rory and Maisie there was the grateful Mary and of course Liam who added to the numbers that were meeting them at the beach.

Since the day that Malcolm had gone with Ruth to collect Thomas from school, Thomas had latched on to him and had badgered him to the point of surrender to tell him stories about the days when he had worked with Harry and Ruth. Aided by Ruth who had spent hours over the years in the same office with Malcolm, they invented stories that bordered on the truth and included a lot of tales about Malcolm's ability with gadgets. Now mention the word gadget to a seven year old and Malcolm realised to his cost that he was expected to deliver something hitherto not owned by any of Thomas's friends, the contents of which was contained in the box that he was currently loading into the car, hopefully with enough bits and bobs to keep a group of seven year olds amused for ages.

'My Uncle Malcolm's a genie,' Thomas announced to his friends, bumping into Harry's back because he wasn't concentrating as they made their way down the steps, 'he's going to build us a robot.'

Malcolm had never been anyone's uncle and he quite liked his new title, although in this particular context it was quite unnerving.

'He means genius?' Ruth heard Harry tell the man who had overnight become a children's entertainer and was going to give Harry the day off for a change, although building a fire was still obligatory because Liam hadn't seen it.

A picnic for four adults and four children was considerably larger than they generally had to put together, but the combined efforts of what amounted to three mothers had produced a feast.

Still feeling marginally in charge, Harry organised the battalion of _tiny people,_ by finding Malcolm a flat area surrounded by boulders where he could begin his tutorial. Malcolm's beleaguered look as Harry wished him good luck and left him with four eager pairs of eyes, left Harry free for once to enjoy himself and take in the scene. Left to his own devises, he walked back to where he'd left Ruth and Mary, only to find himself alone with Whisky because they'd headed towards the water's edge where they were deep in conversation.

'Right my old sons,' he said to Whisky and a passing seagull, before he poured himself a mug of coffee and sat down to watch Ruth and enjoy the quiet.

* * *

At the water's edge Ruth was chattering about nothing in particular in an effort to start a conversation, when Mary interrupted her by announcing that she'd never been married to Liam's father. It had never been Ruth's idea of fun to indulge in small talk or gossip and apart from Rose who Ruth felt she could say anything to and vice versa, this woman who'd latched onto her meant nothing. But then this was Ruth and if there was a bird with a broken wing as Harry had once described Catherine, then it always seemed to gravitate towards her and she couldn't let it suffer.

'That's sad, are you still in contact?' she asked Mary, wishing she could be anywhere rather than here.

'We were in Glasgow and as soon as he knew I was pregnant he scarpered and we've never heard from him since,' and Ruth said she was sorry. Where the hell this was leading she had no idea and why Mary felt it necessary to be telling her for that matter was a mystery, until Mary followed on by saying that Liam had recently started asking questions about his father and that she didn't know how to deal with it.

Snap thought Ruth, neither had she when Thomas had asked her the same question, but she'd managed to find a way. She was just about to suggest to Mary that she ought to talk to Rose, when Mary asked her if they'd set a date for the wedding.

'Oh everybody knows,' she told her, 'the children are so excited, I think they're already planning something,' and Ruth was close to hyperventilating. It was going to be quiet and private, Harry had promised her that and now seemingly the whole village were going to turn up and spoil their day.

'How do you know?' Ruth asked her, with perhaps more force than she intended.

Mary completely undaunted and seemingly unaware of the panic in Ruth's voice, pointed to where the children were sitting.

'Rory told Liam that he'd heard your Harry talking to his father,' so Rose had kept her promise which Ruth had never doubted. Rory on the other hand amounted to a snitch, but then he was only seven. Bugger Ruth thought, wanting to put a lid on the already exploding can.

'Harry's going to ask Malcolm to be his best man and we're hoping that by July, Harry's son Graham and his wife and Harry's granddaughter Alice will be here as well,' Ruth heard herself telling Mary, 'but it's far from decided, so I'd rather you didn't discuss it with anyone else.'

In the distance a whistle from Harry to attract their attention prevented any further chat about weddings or missing fathers for which Ruth was grateful, but far from appeased. The fire was blazing and it was obviously time for lunch because the children were sitting in their usual places.

'Come on, I think we're needed,' Ruth told her unwanted companion, gathering up her shoes and towel before heading back up the beach and to what she hoped was some sort of sanity.

'How's it going Malcolm?' she asked him, passing him another sandwich and some crisps, batting away Rory's hand that was trying to intercept their passage. The fact that Ruth could envisage a sign on his forehead saying _super grass_ wasn't endearing her to Rory at the moment but it had only been a child to child comment and before Thomas had come along he had always been her favourite. Did children even know what getting married meant, probably not she thought?

'The crisps are there if you want some sweetheart,' she told Rory, weakening as she always did.

* * *

Harry meanwhile was relaxing unaware that Ruth had news. He was indulging in his favourite pastime, watching Ruth when she didn't know that he was doing it. She was a born organiser but more than that she had a personality that drew people to her. Today was no different as he watched her busying herself with the children and chatting to Mary and Malcolm. As much as he enjoyed these mass gatherings he really wished that today it could have just been the three of them with Malcolm, but then again that was just him being selfish. Maybe later when Malcolm was demonstrating what he had constructed and if he could get Mary to go with him, he could orchestrate a moment to be alone with Ruth, because he felt an overwhelming need to hold her hand and to tell her that she was beautiful.

Ruth knew that Harry was looking at her, she didn't need to look up to know that. His eyes were burning into her as they so often did and she so wanted to look up. Would anyone else notice, well certainly not the children who were tucking into their yogurts, but maybe Malcolm or Mary she had no idea? But there was a temptation, a pull that she really couldn't resist and why should she, did it matter, no it didn't? It was only a look for goodness sake, not full blown sex. Her face was burning and it had nothing to do with the warmth from the fire, she wanted to call him a bastard and to stop but she couldn't. She gave in and looked up. The chatter in the background disappeared, their breathing increased and had they been on their own it would have been another first as the usually contained Ruth had a barely controlled desire to rush over and to hell with the consequences. Instead, she tried to convey in one single look, _I wish we were on our own too,_ as Harry smiled his glorious molten smile, with eyes that said _I love you_.

'I could do with some support,' a sensitive to all things Ruth and Harry Malcolm called to Mary,' as lunch finished and he headed back towards his part finished creation with the children in his wake, 'I'm just about ready to see if this thing works.'

'A walk along the beach,' suggested Harry, cocking his head in the opposite direction to where Malcolm and Mary were heading.

* * *

Up until then their exploration of the beach had been pretty much confined to the area around the steps, but with the tide way out and not yet on the turn, there was no chance of them being cut off if they disappeared around the next headland.

'Come on Ruth,' was said with a real persistence in his voice, 'the kids are fine, they won't even miss us.'

She was about to tell him that they needed to stay with Thomas which was ridiculous, Harry was right he was fine. It was the first time in over a year that they'd walked anywhere on their own and despite Ruth's reticence at leaving Thomas, it was a case of where you go I follow as she took his hand.

'About the wedding …..,' and for one dreadful moment Harry thought that she was going to say that she'd changed her mind, 'it's seems that Rory overheard you telling Michael and now apparently the whole village knows.'

Christ thought Harry, that's blown it.

'Hence Thomas calling me Daddy do you think?' He suggested.

'I'm done with thinking,' Ruth told him, 'it never really gets you anywhere does it, other than to worry about things that might and invariably don't happen.'

'It saved us a tricky conversation as well didn't it,' and Ruth kissed him, standing on her tiptoes as she always had to until Harry bent down and joined in, his mind awash with thoughts of the wedding and wishing that he could predict the weather because he still wanted them to get married here. There had to be a compromise no matter what the weather.

'If,' he asked her, pulling apart as inspiration struck, 'we get married in church as I know you want to, what would you say to us coming here in the evening for the party? Can you just imagine this place late into the evening, us dancing, a fire and the kids running across the beach? It would be perfect Ruth, please say yes.'

Had it not been for Thomas's voice shouting Daddy, then Harry would in all probability have got far more than her answer of yes, before they turned back.

Passing them in the opposite direction, twelve legs, eight of which belonged to the excited children, the other four to their confused and barking canine companion were racing in pursuit of _the Malcolm mobile_ that was making good progress across the sand. When they finally caught up with it, it miraculously turned and headed in the opposite direction and with it a groan that replaced their laughter. As Harry and Ruth watched on, Malcolm with a remote control in his hand was waiting until the children caught up, before pressing the button again and heading them back to base camp where he was standing.

'We've missed you Malcolm,' Ruth whispered, squeezing his arm as the children's screams of 'again' drowned out all other sound, before Thomas added 'please.'

'Thank you so much for today Ruth,' said Mary, nodding towards Liam who was standing with his new friends, watching Harry who was stoking up the fire, ready to introduce the marshmallows.

* * *

'We haven't even told Catherine or Graham yet, we wanted to tell you first and ask if you'd be my best man,' Harry told Malcolm, when the subject of the wedding came up while Ruth was supervising Thomas's bath before putting him to bed. Once Ruth gets back we'll tell you the rest.'

The fire had been loaded with logs, the curtains had been closed and the house as it always did had taken on its cosy glow.

'You're a lucky man Harry,' not that you don't deserve it of course,' Malcolm told his friend, as Harry reflected on the words of _'Not a day goes by when I don't think of you,'_ the song that had become his mantra and could so easily have spelt out his destiny, but now kept him grounded.

'Ruth's devoted to you, you will look after her?' Caused Harry to look at Malcolm and ponder the ridiculousness of his question.

'It's just that after I ... we lost Colin,' and Harry understood. Ruth had become Malcolm's closest friend.

'We have a child together and even if we didn't, I promise you I will. And by the way Malcolm, any time that you want to come and check, you'll always be welcome,' he added.

'Do you and Ruth ever talk about the old days? You know when we were all on the grid,' and Malcolm had changed the subject.

'House rules change Malcom we'll never forget it, any of it, but talking about it, no we don't. The past is just that and it's the future that counts for us now, it's all any of us have.'

'Well I never, Harry Pearce a philosopher, it doesn't take a genius to know who you've been living with,' said Malcolm, raising his glass with sincerity.

* * *

'What's he said now?' Harry asked Ruth who had arrived back in the room unheard with a grin on her face.

'He wants Malcolm to live with us. Apparently he's been voted everyone's favourite uncle.'

'We'll have plenty of room if you want to,' Harry told Malcolm with a knowing grin.

'The wedding, you wanted to talk to me about the wedding?' said Malcolm, wanting to side step the issue of his recently formed fan club and his ridiculous question, he stood up and moved from sitting next to Harry to the chair. He did it without any drama or explanation just nodding to Ruth to sit down. It just felt like the right thing to do, it was after all where Ruth usually sat.

'July….. the seventh in the church,' Ruth finished Harry's sentence, before they went on to tell him that it would be family and close friends only, which of course included him.'

'If I'm your best man Harry what will I need to, apart from telling everyone what a wonderful bloke you are?' Malcolm asked with his usually serious face now intact, only to be told that providing he didn't lose the rings and managed a speech without any jokes, then that was about it.

'Honeymoon, I assume that you're having one?' and they confirmed that one night at home on their own, with Thomas staying at the vicarage and that was it, it was what they both wanted. A honeymoon could wait, they weren't about to treat Thomas like a parcel that got passed around, while they headed off to who knows where.

Malcolm smiled, thinking at how times had changed and them with it. 'He's a lucky little boy,' he told them.

Another hour, by which time they'd discussed their plans to invite anyone who wanted too, to come to the beach for the evening, and Malcolm had signed up to finding a way to produce music and lighting, on a beach that was miles from electricity.

'A piece of cake for a genie,' he smiled at them, before announcing that he was going to head for bed.

'By the way,' he said, pausing in the doorway, 'if you two fancy an evening out on your own whilst I'm here then do it, I'm more than happy to look after Thomas,' was as a result of Harry telling him that he wanted to take Ruth to choose a ring.

'Monday then,' said Harry smiling, 'if we go early enough we can call in and find out if the planning officer has made a decision.'


	27. Chapter 27

A couple of days before he was due to fly home, on a night when Ruth had gone to bed early and they'd shared another bottle of wine and far too many memories, Malcolm confessed to Harry that he was lonely.

'Sorry,' he stuttered, 'I know that it's against the rules, but Colin, my dear old Mum and our colleagues have been the sum total of my friends, and now with you and Ruth living so far away from London I have no one.

'Come on Malcolm, this isn't like you,' and Harry realised to his horror that it was, as Malcolm's eyes glazed over.

Above Harry's head and sleeping peacefully, was the one person that would have known what to say and he desperately tried to imagine what that was.

'Brian?' he suggested.

'A passing acquaintance nothing more, we all have those don't we,' Malcolm said sadly.

Needing time to think, before coming up with an answer that as yet he didn't have, Harry told him to sit tight, he was going to make coffee and that he wouldn't be a moment. He remembered as though it were yesterday, the knock on his door the evening after Ruth had sailed away on that dam awful tugboat, and Malcolm with a bottle of whisky in his hand had asked if he could come in. How before he'd drunk himself into a stupor, the only words that he'd managed during the course of the next hour were that was he was lost without her and didn't know how he was going to go on, and how Malcolm had supported him. His appointed guardian he had subsequently found out. Adam had sent him with explicit instructions to stay with him. Was that how Malcolm was feeling now, he had no idea, but he had to think of something and quickly? He made the coffee and walked back in, with the only thing he had.

'Come up early before the wedding, for a month if you'd like to Malcolm,' he pushed him, hoping that this was enough for now. 'The weather will be lovely by then, we can do some proper walking and the work on the house will be finished and as they say another pair of hands, come on Malcolm, Ruth will be thrilled if you say yes.'

'Thank you Harry, you're a good friend, I'd like that,' was said with no more than a nod.

It had been a private and in many ways a very intimate conversation between two friends, but as with everything now, when Ruth woke up the next morning Harry told her.

'But he's been so cheerful whilst he's been here, how could we not have noticed?' was her only question, both of them now equally worried about Malcolm.

'We've all acted a part Ruth as you well know and Malcolm was doing just that.'

* * *

'You're welcome sir and I hope that you and the future Mrs. Pearce will be very happy,' the planning officer told Harry, handing over the approved plans and making him wonder if there was anyone on the island that didn't know about what Rose had announced would be the first wedding in a decade. There were children in Ruth's class, several of whom were the same age as the rapidly growing Thomas, but then perhaps people didn't get married any more, Harry had no idea.

'Thanks,' he said, wanting to make a hasty retreat, shaking the small and bespectacled man's hand, 'we will be.'

Gary the son of the long since retired and Harry's firm friend Ron, had, tempted by the promise of a cash bonus if he could get the work finished before the end of April started work immediately and was working all hours god was offering to him, which now came with the promise that he'd be finished and out of their hair three weeks in advance.

Moving into what was left of the house that could only be described as marginally warm they were surviving, although for the previous two weeks when at night the temperature had dropped below zero, Thomas had been allowed on a temporary basis they'd explained, to move in with them. With Whisky in the bedroom as well, again on a temporary basis it hadn't been easy, although without the added bodily warmth, even Harry would have had to admit that they'd have had to beg beds elsewhere, and neither of them wanted that.

'There were three in a bed and the little one said, roll over, roll over. So they all rolled over and one fell out,' sang Ruth and Thomas giggling, as Harry muttered 'Not on your life,' and pretended to look grumpy, rather than admit, that had he been able to sing he'd have joined in.

The bed was wondrously large, something Harry that had remedied when he'd first arrived and not only because he was recovering from his injuries. The current sleeping arrangements did at least have fringe benefits, in that with Ruth sleeping in the middle and pressed up tight against him, he had the option should he so desire, to let his mind and his hands wander. Another advantage was that Thomas on the other side of Ruth was a heavy sleeper, so they were able to talk uninterrupted and unheard before they went to sleep.

'I have absolutely no idea sweetheart,' his latest endearment when it came to Ruth, was his response to her asking him if Malcolm had sounded any better when he'd called him earlier that evening, 'although with the list of jobs that Rose has apparently sent him, he certainly won't be bored.'

They were at a loss as to what to do, other than to offer him support as best they could and hope to god that he found a way to raise his spirits. No doubt if he asked Callum, then there would be a way for him to go back to work on a part time basis, but that was a decision for Malcolm, not him.

All things considered and despite the upheaval, they were happy. Harry was keeping himself busy by keeping an eye on proceedings, going with Gary to various suppliers to order and pay for the new kitchen that he and Ruth had chosen and to ensure that the bi fold doors that were going to be fitted across the back of the house and would overlook the garden, were as good if not better than they'd seen on line. Ruth, working her usual three mornings, still came home at mid-day so that they could share their lunch together and did the re run mid- afternoon, to collect the increasingly excited Thomas, eager to get home each day and cast an eagle eye over what had changed.

Much sooner than anticipated the main structural work was completed, the additional staircase, another of Brian's good ideas, that would take them up to their new bedroom and en-suite had been erected, and the new windows were being fitted.

* * *

Away from the chaos and in between offering occasional meals on wheels to what she presumed to be her freezing friends, Rose had been busy planning. The village had been mobilised and were ready to help in any way they could, to ensure that for anyone who attended the evening on the beach after the wedding, it would be a night to remember. The more the merrier, Harry and Rose had finally convinced Ruth. It would be dark and with more people, it would take the focus away from them.

As they headed into April and the temperature warmed up, weekends at least reverted to normal, as they left Gary and his fellow workers to their own devices and headed off for a family day. Sometimes it was as simple as a walk around the headland and sometimes just a drive in the car or a visit to Stornoway for a pizza, Thomas's meal of choice. But more often than not it was to the beach, _just to be_ Harry called it, and today was one of those days.

'Are you sure you can you manage that?' Ruth fussed over a struggling Thomas, who insisted that he was practising for the wedding, by carrying a larger than was good for him haversack down the steps.

'I've been mobilised,' he told them in a voice that belied his young age, referring to a conversation that he'd had with Rory and Liam, causing Ruth to put her hands in front of her face and turn away for fear of laughing, after Harry had mouthed mobilised?

'That's nice darling,' she told him.

'Do you know what mobilised means?' Harry asked him, once they reached the beach and Ruth was pouring the coffee and searching for the biscuits.

'Of course I do,' he said in a confident voice, 'I'm going to be one of the helpers on the day before the wedding, so that you and Mummy can have some time on your own, Rose said so.'

With that one single word, the earth turned on its axis and Ruth's head with it.

'Ruth,' Harry screamed, racing across to grab the cup of scalding hot coffee that was splashing onto Ruth's feet as Thomas started to cry.

'Of course it's not your fault,' she said cuddling him, 'it was me being silly by not concentrating.'

It was April the 15th, only two and a half months until the appointed day, and another huge transition had been made.

* * *

Before that though, there were the not so small matters of getting the house straight before Malcolm arrived, waiting to hear from Graham that their flights had been booked and that the small terraced house in Stornoway that he and Lucy had rented for a month, to hopefully give them both enough time to attend job interviews, had been secured.

Erin according to several chats that they'd had with Catherine and Callum had been generous and given him a week's leave, drafting in Alec White as cover.

'Christ now we're in trouble,' had been Harry's response, when Callum told him.

And last but not least a trip to Stornoway, to collect the rings, to search for the new dress which Ruth had finally agreed she would wear, providing that it wasn't too figure hugging or eye catching. Whatever Ruth considered eye catching, Harry didn't know and he didn't care, he was finally going to marry Ruth. A new suit for him and clothes for Thomas and Alice, both of whom had essential roles to play on the day.

* * *

'Goodness me, you've grown,' Ruth told Alice, when Lucy had her standing on a chair and was relaying her measurements for the dress, during one of the calls that had continued from the moment that they'd got home.

'Look, I've grown my hair as well,' said Alice, attempting to do a twirl without toppling off the chair.

'It's beautiful,' Ruth told her.

Never a child that had lacked in confidence, a carbon copy of Catherine, if ever there was one Ruth thought, Alice asked her if she could speak to grandad.

'He's here darling, he's just coming,' was said to appease Harry as much as Alice. Harry had kept his distance during the measuring and hair discussion sessions, but had been hopping from one foot to the other, impatient to be involved.

These conversations always involved Ruth taking Thomas away from the computer and into the kitchen, for no other reason than for her to have stayed and watched would have felt like an intrusion. Since they'd come home, for all his bravado, Harry missed Alice more than he had ever admitted. Always bleary eyed, but with his still stubborn tendency keeping it under control, he sought her out almost as soon as he'd said his goodbyes. Ruth prayed, she really did, that Graham and Lucy would find a way to move back home, so that Harry would at least see one of his family on a regular basis, grow beyond infancy.

'Fine,' he told her as he always did, walking back into the new kitchen and squeezing her hand.

Of course you are, she thought. At least now though, they could go shopping.

* * *

'That one's lovely you look beautiful,' Harry suggested, when Ruth had tried on and rejected umpteenth dresses.

He'd chosen two suits, both grey, with blue shirts and silver grey ties and it had got to the stage where whichever he bought, had to match or at least compliment what Ruth was wearing.

Thomas had sat patiently watching, a large bag on the floor beside him, containing his first smart pair of long trousers and jacket and a blue waistcoat that matched Alice's dress. He was tired, he was hungry and he wanted the pizza that he'd been promised.

'I like that one as well,' he piped up as if to hurry up proceedings as the shop assistant smiled, falling short of saying well done, what a lovely little boy, as Harry handed over his debit card for the third time in the space of an afternoon, before they exited the shop with their parcels.

It was still early and the pizza parlour was reasonably quiet, so finding a table away from the other diners who were all in one corner proved easy.

'Why is it,' a now calmer Ruth commented, 'that people always feel the need to huddle together? It was the same when my mother and father took me camping when I was a small child. In a huge field where there was room for everyone to spread out, people used to pitch their tents next to complete strangers.'

'Can we go camping one day?' Thomas piped up.

As Harry contemplated an answer that didn't involve admitting that he was far too old to go camping, besides which he had a dodgy knee, he remembered what he'd told Malcolm. Thomas has to come first.

'If you'd really like to,' he heard himself saying, to Ruth's amazement and Thomas's joy.

'When's Alice arriving?' Thomas asked changing tack, having eaten his pizza far more quickly than was good for him, as their very observant waitress who had been hovering, arrived back at the table and asked them if Thomas wanted a pudding, only to be told by Ruth to give them a few moments.

'Uncle Malcolm's arriving first in just under two weeks,' Harry told him, 'and then Graham and Lucy with Alice and then Catherine, you do remember her don't you?' was a wake up call as to how much they still needed to do before the wedding, which included an important meeting with Michael to discuss the form of the service. Still at least they was home and dry as far as what they were going to wear, which included their rings that were tucked safely in the pocket of his jacket.

It was May 15th.

* * *

All Ruth's preconceived ideas about the wedding being a family only and quiet one, were blown like feather on the wind as they sat in front of Michael.

'It can still be very private,' Michael assured her, 'but the children love you,' he told her, looking earnestly into her eyes, 'they want to sing for you, they've been practising for ages.'

'But when?' referred to when had they practised, not at what point in the wedding did they intend singing?

'You only work three mornings,' explained it.

Harry was on pins, waiting for some sort of rejection to Michael's statement, rubbing his thumb in circles on the back of Ruth's hand in an attempt to relax her.

'So what you're saying,' she finally said, 'is that the family and our close friends can still sit at the front, but behind them will be the children with their parents. Nobody else, you promise?'

'I promise,' Michael told her, 'and no nasty surprises.'

Ruth turned as if expecting Harry to comment, and when he didn't she nodded.

'That's good,' Michael said, echoing Harry's thoughts, as they went on to discuss the music.

'I need you to choose two hymns and the music for when you walk down and back up the aisle, _when it's all over_ ,' Michael suggested grinning.

'Done and dusted,' Harry told him, producing a sheet of paper from his pocket with the music that they'd jointly chosen.

'Different, but relevant to you I presume and that's what's most important,' was Michael's reaction to what he read, going on to ask them about their last choice.

'Ode to Joy, Love Divine, Thine Forever God of Love and Stanley's Trumpet tune, in that order,' Harry told him, as Ruth went on to explain that having been in the choir for two years, she doubted that the ageing Mr Roberts the organist would be able to cope with the Mendleson Wedding March, without the congregation dissolving into laughter. 'Sorry,' she added.

'Don't be, it can be frightful at times can't it,' Michael said to her grinning broadly, as Harry said the he assumed that what the children were planning on singing wasn't any of those.

'Absolutely not, it's a song but that's all I'm going to say,' Michael told them continuing to smile, 'and now I'm afraid I have to give you the marriage is forever chat, it's compulsory, I'm sorry.'

Harry of course had heard it once before in the lead up to the day that he'd married Jane, after which when they were signing the register, he'd confessed what he did for a living. The start of the downhill spiral and his subsequent rejection, he was still sure about that.

* * *

But this was different and as contrasts went for Harry, was an ocean apart. Forget the past it couldn't be changed, the future was all that they had, he reminded himself of what he'd said to Malcolm. As he sat there in that quiet church listening to Michael's words, where in just over four weeks time he would commit himself to Ruth for the rest of his life, he smiled.

In the distance, the sound of children's laughter from the playground was the only thing that broke the silence. Everything that he had for so long dreamed of having were within touching distance, as he took a deep breath and squeezed Ruth's no longer trembling hand.


	28. Chapter 28

'Any calls whilst I've been out?' Ruth asked, bundling back in from work, her arms full of books and her bag over her shoulder.

'Just Malcolm.'

'That's nice, how did he sound?'

'Better I think, he was all apologies for it being last minute, asking if he could bring _a friend_ with him,'

'Harry you don't think?' didn't require an explanation.

'I don't think anything anymore, well that's not strictly true,' was said with his eyes twinkling wickedly, as rushed over to help relieve her of the books that were spilling out of her arms.

'Harry, one or two rooms, you did ask didn't you?' and Ruth was back to the practical.

* * *

'It's a school day tomorrow otherwise you know could have come,' Harry told Thomas, who unusually for him was throwing a wobbler about being told that he couldn't come to the airport to meet Malcolm, because his flight didn't arrive until after 10pm.

'If I'm still awake when you get back, will I be allowed to say hello?' and Harry said yes, knowing full well that by then, Thomas would be asleep and quite probably Ruth as well.

In what he now knew would be two trips to the airport in the space of a month, Harry was more than happy to do it. Malcolm wasn't hiring a car and besides which he was keen to meet _the friend_ who had become the subject of further conjecture, since Malcolm had called again confirming two rooms.

The small plane was generally full and tonight was no exception, as Harry watched from the gallery as it taxied along the runway before the passengers alighted and trundled across the tarmac towards the terminal building. Despite or perhaps because of the lights and his best efforts, he couldn't decide which of the thirty or so pairs of legs belonged to Malcolm. Perhaps he should think about having his eyes tested he wondered.

Going back downstairs he headed for arrivals gate, teeming with what he presumed were other people's friends and relatives and a smattering of taxi drivers. He recalled the night when he'd first arrived and there'd been no one waiting to meet him. How he'd been desperately tired but so full of hope at the thought of seeing Ruth again. The deep snow on the road over 'The Crags' and arriving in the village with the road full of sheep and angels, God now he came to think of it, one of those must have been Thomas. His near miss when he'd driven down the lane to her house far too fast, and then that incredible sensation in the church when she'd walked so close to him without realising it. Was it really only be eighteen months ago?

'Sorry if I'm not quite what you expected,' said a young man that he hadn't seen since he'd left London and hadn't imagined that he'd ever see again. 'It's good to see you Harry,' said Tariq.

In a former life Harry would have said, 'shouldn't you be at work or good to see you too Tariq,' but he said neither. He was wondering whether or not Tariq had got through his barging in unannounced phase, otherwise this was going to be a very short visit.

An announcement over the speakers, roused them into action to make their way out of the terminal building and into the car park before they closed it for the night.

'Do you want us to explain now or wait until we get home?' Malcolm continued, 'Ruth will still be awake, won't she?'

'I very much doubt it, she's got school in the morning, but you never know,' said a more than curious Harry, as Tariq lifted their luggage into the car, 'but best to wait just in case.'

Ruth had tried to sleep, but the combination of Harry driving on darkened roads on his own which still worried her, Malcolm and whoever was arriving with him and the fact that she wasn't really tired, meant that she lain there and heard the car coming down the lane in advance of it pulling up. Dragging her dressing gown from the hook behind the door, she padded into the kitchen and put the kettle on. Everyone liked a cup of tea or coffee didn't they?

'Oh my god,' escaped her lips without her knowing it, as unlike Harry, she raced across the room and embraced Tariq. 'What on earth are you doing here?' was a ridiculous though valid question.

'Malcolm said that you could do with some extra help,' he said in his familiarly gentle way, before going on to explain, what Ruth considered to be the best news she'd heard in ages.

'Jones and Masood, genie plus one, at you service,' Tariq told them, going on to explain that he'd made what at first had felt like a ridiculous decision, by quitting MI5. How he'd bumped into Malcolm purely by accident, and how over a few drinks in The George, they'd contrived a plan to go into business together. 'We work well together, it's purely on line and it's thriving,' he told them. 'It's surprising how many people are interested in gadgetry and all else besides.'

Harry yawned. 'Sorry,' said Tariq, 'you're tired, we'll tell you more in the morning, we should say goodnight.'

'Here let me give you a hand with those,' said Harry, lifting one of Malcolm's bags.

'You'll get an early call,' Ruth called after Malcolm who was still lingering, 'there's one very excited little boy that's looking forward to seeing you again,' nodding to him to follow Harry and Tariq up the stairs.

'It's so good to be here again,' he said, walking back and hugging her, 'I'll walk with you to school in the morning if that's alright. Tariq wants to talk to Harry.'

* * *

Thomas was standing on the landing without his dressing gown or his slippers. He'd been for a wee and washed his hands and he should have gone back to bed, because his usual wake – up call Whisky was still snoring, so it was early. Confronted by two doors, he knew that he'd be in trouble if he walked in on the lady that was sleeping behind one of them, whereas Uncle Malcolm wouldn't be cross, he'd be pleased to see him.

There was a lump in the bed, but there was also a tee shirt draped across the chair that said _Geeks rule,_ which couldn't be Uncle Malcolm's because he knew that he didn't wear tee shirts. He beat a hasty retreat and crept towards the other door.

'I've been expecting you, come on in,' and Thomas was up on his bed in a flash and talking twenty to the dozen, as Malcolm put down the book that he'd been reading and listened patiently about the changes to the house, the wedding and that there was going to be a party on the beach, all of which he knew.

'I've been mobilised Uncle Malcolm,' had much the same effect on Malcolm as it had on Harry and Ruth, although unlike them, Malcolm succeeded in keeping a straight face as he received full chapter and verse as to exactly what role in the evening Thomas was going to playing.

'It's a secret, so you won't tell will you?' said his earnest little face, as he went on to explain that there was going to be a bonfire, lots of food and music as well. 'All my friends are coming, including Liam, he's the new one and Alice will be there as well. She's in Canada at the moment but she's flying on a huge aeroplane, just like I did,' was rattled off almost without a breath being taken.

'Go and fetch your dressing gown and then how about you take me downstairs and show me where the kettle is in the new kitchen,' Malcolm suggested, conscious that the rest of the household were still asleep, but wouldn't be much longer if Thomas kept going at the rate he was. Despite which he fancied a cup of tea.

He had so many tales of his own to tell, but those could come later, including an explanation as to who Tariq was, as he sat and listened to the child that had grown in confidence in leaps and bounds, even in the short time since he'd last seen him. He'd clearly accepted that Harry and Ruth were his parents and that alone warmed Malcolm's heart. He'd watched them together when he'd last been there, as they'd stuttered and stumbled their way in an attempt to prove to him how much they loved him and it had clearly worked. Malcolm was elated.

'Mind if I join you?' asked Ruth, who had walked into the kitchen unheard.

'Thomas and I were just discussing gadgets,' he said with a wink to Thomas, to assure him that he wouldn't say anything, although there was the distinct possibility that Ruth had overheard what Thomas had been saying.

'I need tea, is there any more in the pot?' asked Ruth, possibly playing along.

'So you found Uncle Malcolm, I hope you didn't wake him up,' Ruth continued, turning back from where she was making a fresh pot of tea, only to be told that he hadn't and that Uncle Malcolm had been reading a book.

'What's a Geek?' followed the confession that he'd opened Tariq's door.

'Over to you Malcolm,' Ruth told him, 'but not too long. I need to get showered and changed and then sort Thomas out, before Harry makes breakfast. He does that on the days that I work.'

Listening to what Ruth had just said was so down to earth as to be normal, and as far as Malcolm was concerned was wonderful. They'd gone from teetering on the brink of oblivion to becoming a proper family in the space of less than eighteen months. He felt privileged that he'd been offered the chance to witness it, and not only that to be Harry's best man at their wedding.

'Good morning,' said the man in question, planting a kiss in Ruth's hair, before telling Thomas if he wanted any breakfast that he needed to go and get ready.

* * *

An hour later when Malcolm had left with Thomas and Ruth, announcing that he was going to take himself off for a walk before he came home, Harry and Tariq were sitting in the garden.

'You don't have to explain your decision to me Tariq, I'm not your boss anymore,' had been prompted by Tariq telling Harry that he needed and wanted to explain his decision to resign.

'My disillusion if that's the right word, started when Lucas ….,'

'Died,' Harry suggested.

'Yes, but it was before that when he called from the Enver Tower and said that you had to come on your own. You turned to Ruth and said that it was your turn and then walked away. Dimitri wanted to shadow you but she wouldn't let him. she was so contained, so in control. she was incredible. It was only after the others left to go and diffuse the bomb that her resolve slipped, it was terrible, I felt so helpless.'

'Terrible?' wasn't a statement, but a question.

'She believed that you were going to die, we both did. She wept uncontrollably and I suddenly realised that somewhere down the line, there would be someone that loved me as much as Ruth loved you, who one day would crying for me. It changed everything.'

Harry waited pouring them both another coffee, Tariq clearly hadn't finished.

'If you'd come back to work Harry, after the extradition,'

'Yes?'

'I'd have stayed, but you didn't and I knew that it could never be the same.'

'Change can be good.' Harry told him, still pondering what Tariq had said about Ruth.

'Not this one, and once Callum said that he was leaving, that just left Erin, and I don't want to sound disloyal, but the stability that you and Ruth brought to section D had gone and I became an outsider and felt less valued, if that makes sense?

Harry did understand it had been the same for years. Governments had come and gone and with them a new Home Secretary had arrived, colleagues that he'd been close to had died, always leaving him with the mountain of rebuilding his section.

'Go on,' he told Tariq.

'Then just as I was floundering I bumped into Malcolm who was at a loose end, and the rest as they say is history.'

'I appreciate you telling me Tariq, but I hope you realise that you're going to have to earn your keep while you're here?' Harry told him, in an effort to lighten the mood. 'Ruth hasn't changed, for which I will be eternally grateful and she's got a whole list of jobs she wants doing before the wedding which aren't gadget related.' He pointed to the garden and the state that it was in after the builders had left.

'When do I start, or do I have to wait until the boss gets back?' Tariq ribbed him.

* * *

Tariq was young, Tariq was a geek, as for the next two weeks Thomas didn't so much as change his affections as side line them for a bit, from his parents and Malcolm to Tariq who was _cool_. Racing home from school to get into what were designated _his scruffies,_ to help with whatever Tariq was doing.

'It's temporary, it will pass and there's nothing wrong with him saying cool,' was Ruth's attempt to pacify Harry, who was suffering more than she was by Thomas being distracted.

'Just wait until he announces that he's got a girlfriend,' to which Harry's response was unrepeatable.

With just over a week until the wedding, the skip that contained the accumulated rubbish had been taken away, the huge planter that had been the cause of far too many stubbed toes and swearing had been moved, and the garden was now pristine and ready for the small family gathering that would follow the actual ceremony.

* * *

When it came to dealing Thomas, Ruth was the one whose feet were firmly on the ground and Harry was more than happy with that unspoken arrangement. She was the home maker and the mediator that kept him grounded. On the odd occasion when he needed to feel if not get the upper hand, intimating that he was still the boss he played a game, which in this case was mercifully short.

'Please Daddy,' Thomas pleaded on the evening when they were due to meet the flight that was bringing not only Catherine and Callum, but Graham, Lucy and Alice to their wedding.

They'd kept the date from him, purely because they knew that they'd get no peace or possibly sleep if they told him in advance.

'Of course,' you can come, Harry eventually told him, creating exactly the effect that they'd so far managed to, as he raced up to his room shouting that he was going to get ready, with Ruth in his wake, telling him that it was far too early and to come back downstairs and finish his dinner.

Malcolm turned to Harry.

'Would you be kind enough to tell Catherine that I need to speak to her as soon as possible?' he asked him, with the usual politeness that was so very Malcolm and so rare these days.

'Plots and plans eh Malcolm,' and Malcolm blushed. 'Don't worry we know that there's an army out there that's plotting behind our backs, though hopefully not as dangerous as the old days?'

* * *

The airport was as busy as ever with expectant relatives and bored taxi drivers, as Ruth took Thomas to one side and found the only available seat, while Harry joined the throng that were meeting the plane.

'Give Daddy a minute,' had been met with only mild resistance, because Thomas knew better than to argue with Ruth. She loved him he knew that but he also knew that when she said no it was for a good reason, whereas with Harry he always stood a chance of winning him round.

The build up to this moment had felt like a lifetime in the making, perhaps the longest seven months in Ruth's life, although now it had arrived, it felt less so. All the chats they'd had via the computer, would pale into insignificance the moment that Harry saw Alice and she him. Graham and Lucy were fully aware as to how Harry would be feeling and they'd spoken to Catherine and Callum.

'Just give him a moment,' Graham had told them.

Ruth sat and watched, chatting aimlessly to Thomas about anything and everything that she could think of to distract him, until suddenly the doors swung open and the passengers started to file out.

Somewhere on the periphery she saw Callum and Catherine walking towards the hire car desk and Graham and Lucy follow them. In the middle of the melee, Alice who had grown so much taller in the seven months since she'd last seen her was off her feet and cuddled into Harry. Even from behind him, Ruth could see his shoulders rising and falling and how hard he was trying to control his breathing and his emotions. She knew every inch of him and that his eyes would be closed as he breathed her in. He was vulnerable, he always had been and she loved him so much in that moment.

'Come on then, time to go and find Alice,' she told Thomas.

There were Hi Dad's and Hi Ruth's, coming at them from all sides as they headed out into the car park in search of Graham's hire car. The flight had been great, Alice had slept for a lot of the time and yes the rest of them were tired.

'It's only ten minutes to your house,' Harry told them, as Graham picked up the directions, 'we'll see you in the morning.'

'I want to go with Grandad,' said the bundle that Harry was still holding.

'Just for one tonight,' Ruth heard Lucy say, handing her Alice's small travel bag with a change of clothing, as Graham lifted the child seat out of his car and strapped it into Harrys. Ruth very much doubted it.

'They'll have to top and tail if that's OK,' she told Lucy, nodding towards Thomas and Alice, 'we've got a house full.

* * *

In the week that followed, the protagonists or wedding planners as Harry finally agreed to call them had been conspicuous by their absence. Apart from being there each evening for a meal before they went home, they'd seen little of his older children or Malcolm and Tariq. Banned from going to the beach or the vicarage where they were holding their meetings, they'd done very little other than to spend their days with Thomas and Alice. Thursday however was the wedding rehearsal day and when reality set in.

'I'm not sure about this,' Harry announce as he opened the gate to the church, ushering Thomas and Alice ahead of them.

For some unspeakable reason that Ruth couldn't fathom, she'd finally relaxed which had had the opposite effect on Harry.

'For goodness sake Harry ….,' she didn't know how to finish that sentence. She knew for certain that he hadn't changed his mind, as certain as ever that they were destined to be together, so perhaps it was all the razzmatazz that was being planned for the evening that he was worrying about?

'Good morning everybody,' said the ever cheerful Michael, as though the church was filled with people which it wasn't, other than them and Aidan's parents that had been enlisted as stand in guests, and Ron as Harry's best man.

They knew that what they wanted was unconventional as they stood at the top of the aisle and waited until Aidan's mother pressed play. To Beethoven's Ode to Joy, poignant to the point of being _hair-raising on the back_ to anyone that knew its significance, they walked side by side down the aisle with Thomas next to Ruth and Alice next to Harry.

'Well that's about it, apart from you telling me at what point the children can sing,' Michael told them, having gone through the order of service which had included them reciting their vows.

'I've been thinking about that, could we take a minute?' Harry asked him, wanting to talk to Ruth.

'Take all the time you need,' Michael, told them. He'd officiated at weddings far more complicated than theirs was likely to be.

Ten minutes later while Thomas and Alice were sitting outside the church enjoying an ice cream, Harry explained what had been troubling him and how he should have told her rather than bottling it up.

'It's our wedding Ruth and the only two children that should be taking centre stage are ours,' he said, nodding towards Thomas and Alice, going on to explain that he thought it would be more appropriate for the other children to sing in the evening.

Ruth could have said that she agreed with him, that she hadn't seen him this impassioned since the day that they'd made the decision to adopt Thomas. But she didn't, she kissed him. Carrying on doing so, until there could be no doubt in his mind, that this journey that they were about to embark on together, was for as long as they both should live.

'The evening it is then if that's what you'd prefer, we've got plenty of time to change it,' Michael told them. Twenty for hours of daylight give or take. He needed to find Rose.

* * *

 _It's wedding day bliss next, I promise._


	29. Chapter 29

' _Across the Hebrides, in fact right across Scotland, the weather is set fair and will be warm and sunny for the next few days,_ ' the BBC Scotland weather forecaster told his anxious listeners, none more so than Rose.

'Come on then you hooligans,' she called to the twins, and 'Robert bring that box will you,' as she popped a note on the table for Michael, telling him that he'd have to get his own lunch and that she see him as and when. In this case as and when, referred to however long it took to get everything set up in readiness for the party. Was it really tomorrow, where on earth had the week gone?

'Some things will obviously have to wait until tomorrow afternoon,' she told the fifteen plus parents and family members, as armed with enough kit to bug an entire hotel or in this case provide music and the lighting for the wedding party, Malcolm and Tariq were already busy.

'Right children follow me,' called Aidan's mother Meg who was in charge of the singing, and now with less than twenty four hours to go was having to re arrange their performance. There was a lot more scope in being able to perform outdoors and she was pleased that Harry and Ruth had made the decision, in fact she agreed with their reason for doing it. Singing out of doors might lessen the acoustics, but at least now she had the opportunity to throw in a few actions, or moves as one precocious little darling had corrected her, although for the life of her she couldn't remember which one.

Following on the heels of a small group of the fathers, Graham and Callum headed back up the steps to carry the remaining items down onto the beach, whilst Catherine and Lucy mingled and introduced themselves to the mothers, who were sorting out the elevenses and discussing tomorrow's catering.

'Why here?' asked Lucy, who was seeing the location for the first time and was stunned by the beauty of such an unspoilt coastline.

'It's Dad and Ruth that should really be answering that question, whatever I say won't do it justice,' Catherine told her, struggling to find the right words that could adequately explain how important this particular spot was to Ruth and her Dad.

'Dad's a romantic, although it wouldn't be the first word that comes to mind would it?'

Lucy thought it would, she thought Harry was lovely and how lucky Catherine was to have him as her father.

'He's always loved the sea, but there's something about this beach that makes it special. They think of it as _theirs,_ a sanctuary I suppose you could call it.'

* * *

In all senses, it was _a community working together,_ and was confirming to Graham that he'd made the right decision in persuading Lucy that they should move here.

'Look at her Lucy,' he said, pointing to their daughter who had been included in the choir and was jumping up and down in time to the children's singing, without a clue as to what the words were.

Callum hadn't really changed and saw an opportunity. Get your brain engaged before you say something, didn't apply to him.

'She'll be the star of the show, just as your dad wants her to be,' was said without a word about Thomas. A big mistake if ever there was one, especially as it was aimed at Graham.

'Don't you believe it Cal,' Catherine interrupted, 'you just wait until you hear what Graham and I've come up with for Dad and Ruth's first dance,' fell on deaf ears, as Callum continued to pour fuel on the already stoked up fire.

'Your Dad can dance now can he?' Catherine ignored, it was just Callum's way, but Graham wasn't about to let Callum's comment go unanswered. Now fiercely loyal to his father and his new family and still believing that Callum was a prat, he fired back.

'You could learn a lot from Dad if you took the time to watch and listen. He and Ruth are taking Thomas and Alice camping in August, I suppose you've got an opinion on that as well have you?' He snapped.

Callum had, but wisely he stopped himself from calling Graham sunshine and telling him to keep his hair on.

* * *

Free from children both large and small and with no prospect of seeing them again until the following morning, the couple in question had the prospect of a _let's make the most of it day._ Taking advantage of the weather, they'd opened the large windows in their bedroom and were enjoying a late and leisurely breakfast in bed.

I bet there aren't many people as lucky as we are,' said Harry wistfully, pointing to the crystal blue sea, but by the sound of his voice meaning something else.

This was a happy day, tomorrow they'd be husband and wife, so if there was something worrying him at this late stage, then Ruth needed to know what it was.

'Come on Harry, you don't fool me anymore, out with it,' she said, crawling round so that she was kneeling in front of him. 'If there's something that you're not telling me …..'

'You'll what Ruth, say you won't marry me, I doubt that.'

Right, that answered the one question that would have sent her through the roof. He wasn't going to ask her if she'd changed her mind.

'Talk to me Harry,' she was frustrated now as he continued to prevaricate.

'I should have told you before and I'm sorry, but it's been playing on my mind and we've never had a moment to ourselves since the family arrived.'

She couldn't argue with that.

'I know how you hate gossip,' and now she was worried, until he went on to tell her that when he'd gone into the shop to buy the children their ice creams, that there were two women that he didn't recognise, debating whether or not they were getting married to enhance their chances of adopting Thomas.

She stopped herself from telling him that village shops were renowned as places for gossip, that the days when she'd been worried by gossip were in another lifetime and that once the wedding was over, these people whoever they were would move on to someone else.

'If what Catherine says is right Harry, then while we've been sitting here twiddling our thumbs and a whole lot more besides, if you take into account what happened half an hour ago,' got his attention. 'There are at least twenty adults if you include the family, plus every child in the school, working their socks off on that beach. They're the ones that matter Harry, not two people that we don't know and Rose hasn't invited.'

* * *

The following morning:-

'Now remember what we told you,' Catherine told Thomas and Alice, knocking on the door at eight, wondering if prospective bride and groom might still be in bed.

'Come on Dad,' she muttered, only to have the door opened with a flourish and Harry standing there wrapped in a towel. Ready for the big day was apparently a stupid question as he stood there dripping and with a big grin on his face, having obviously just come out of the shower. She'd expected him to say ready as I'll ever be, or something equally predictable but he hadn't.

'Coffee's on,' he told her as though it was just a normal day, as Ruth arrived behind him with an equally big smile.

'I'll grab a quick one and then I'll have to dash, it's chaos at the vicarage with so many of us needing to get ready. Malcolm and Tariq are staying with, could it be Aidan's parents? I can't remember their names.'

'You've still got two hours Catherine, calm down,' made no difference.

'Bye Dad, bye Ruth, I love you,' and she was gone.

'What was all that about?' he asked Ruth. Catherine was focussed, together and as far as he knew calm. She didn't get flustered, well not up until now.

What Ruth knew and at this stage Harry didn't, was that Catherine had been Rose's right arm in putting together the arrangements. If it doesn't go well, she'd told her, she'd be devastated.

'Right,' said Ruth, turning her focus back to the children, both of them already dressed for the wedding. 'Promise me no biscuits, we can't have messy fingers can we?'

Sitting them in front of the TV, she switched it on. Her heart melted just looking at them, so grown up and the perfect complement to what she and Harry were going to be wearing, and so far behaving. Fingers crossed it lasted.

Harry had disappeared back upstairs to get ready and with just over an hour to go, she still had a checklist in her mind. Apart from that she was cool calm and collected and hopefully so was Harry. The table outside was laid, the food had been prepared the previous day and the drinks was chilling. It was time for her own finishing touches.

* * *

The drive up the road was a short one and it had always been in the plan that they drove themselves. Keep it simple had been their motto and they'd stuck to it to the letter. Turning right rather than left, they parked away from the other cars and walked the short distance to the High Point and to Ruth's bench. In the distance they could see the Isle of Skye and beyond it the mainland, the only reminder that there was life beyond their tiny island paradise. When I sat here, you were sitting beside me, she'd once told him, and now he was and always would be.

It was time to move.

'You look beautiful,' he told her, as she linked her arm in his, her pale blue dress sparkling with silver flecks in the sunlight. So do you, she thought, in the paler of the grey suits, with the blue shirt and the silver tie.

Just as they'd practised, but this time in a church that was filled with their family and friends, they walked side by side with the children. Their eyes fixed on Michael who was waiting to greet them. There was an unspoken and unshakeable belief, that this was their moment and had it not been for the music, you could have heard a pin drop.

As the congregation were told to be seated, to Harry's right stood Malcolm and to Ruth's left stood Thomas. They wanted him close.

'We've come here today to witness the marriage of Harry and Ruth,' said Michael, smiling at the congregation and at them, 'and we'll start by singing the first hymn, Love Divine All Loves Excelling.' Please God let George get the speed right, he kept to himself.

Just as it had been at Christmas, the majority of the congregation were in the church choir and were used to adapting to any speed, as were the children who had been practising for weeks.

Harry wasn't singing, not because he didn't want to but because his mind was on fire. He glanced first at Thomas who was singing his heart out and then at Ruth and caught her eye. He didn't turn round, but he wondered whether Catherine and Graham were singing and what was going through their minds, knowing that his vows to Ruth came next. The minutes were racing by, it was all going too quickly. He wanted to slow it down and to memorise each moment, but the singing had stopped and Michael had asked him to turn and face Ruth. He wanted to kiss her, but that came later ….. Christ he had never felt like this.

'Harry, repeat after me,' said Michael again, prompting him quietly. He'd seen it dozens of times and had read the signs.

'Sorry,' Harry whispered, squeezing Ruth's hands even tighter.

'I Harry James Pearce do take you Ruth Catherine Evershed, to be my lawful wedded wife,' were words that he'd practised in his head a million times and knew by heart. Now finally he was saying them, and in a voice that at one time would have been alien to all but Ruth, who alone had always known the man behind the façade.

'You may kiss the bride,' Michael finally told Harry, who this time didn't need promoting or to say he was sorry.

* * *

Outside the church, Alice was up on her father's shoulders, her pale blue dress and her long blonde hair unimportant for an instant. Armed with a box of confetti as were the rest of the children, who'd sat through the service itching for this moment to arrive. The party started now as far as they were concerned and a ducking and diving Harry and Ruth were their targets.

Somewhere in the background as chaos reigned, Tariq was already taking photographs.

* * *

'Be quick,' said Harry, opening the front door and shedding himself of his jacket as Ruth followed him in. Ten minutes and we'll be with you, Catherine had told them as they'd climbed into the car for the short drive home, with explicit instructions that that they had to relax because everything was taken care of. Harry didn't want to relax he wanted to kiss his wife, and this time without an audience. Fat chance of that as Thomas appeared as if from nowhere.

'I don't want to take my jacket off, I like it,' Thomas told them. Having been told by Ruth that he needed to wash his hands a face if he wanted any lunch he'd noticed that Harry was now jacket free.

'That's fine, keep it on if you want to, I won't be a moment,' Harry told him, bounding up the stairs in search of Ruth and his kiss.

Five minutes later, with lipstick and a huge smile on his face, his jacket was back on and his tie refastened. Harry in a suit and tie was a thing of the past, in fact he hadn't worn one since the New Year's Eve dance, but to Ruth it was a reminder of when she'd first fallen in love with him and wanted him to wear it. Calling it sexy had done the trick, and he'd bounded down the stairs as fast as he'd gone up.

It was time for lunch.

'Come on sweetheart try it,' Catherine suggested.

Thomas wasn't so sure, because fish came with chips and this didn't, besides which it was a funny colour.

'It's salmon,' Catherine told him, as Thomas who was sitting on his chair next to Harry, put his fork down and stood up to pick a stray piece of confetti out of Harry's hair.

Just as it had been at Christmas, they were sitting in the same places but with Malcom and Tariq added at the far end. As Harry pulled the corks on two bottles of wine and Ruth poured the children a soft drink, Catherine headed back into the kitchen where Lucy was spooning the vegetables into their dishes.

'What is it about men and chips?' she asked her, 'Does Graham still like them with everything?'

Thomas ate his salmon and his vegetables, plus a huge helping of trifle that followed the main course. Tariq was eating his and as he'd been promised that he could help him and Uncle Malcolm with the music that evening, now wasn't the time to be thought naughty. Added to which, for his Mum and Dad _it was_ _the most important day of their lives_ , Michael had explained that to him and his friends in assembly one morning when they were practising the hymns. Besides which the salmon was tasty, he'd enjoyed it.

'Can I have your attention please,' said Malcolm, getting to his feet and pausing. 'Now was the moment when I was supposed to make a speech.'

He looked apologetically at Harry, before promptly sitting back down. In a blind panic he'd spoken to Catherine and Graham, saying that he would either say something stupid or worse still not get through it.

Now what, thought Harry as Graham stood up, until in a calm and confident voice, he listened to his son tell the entire family, what he had prepared himself to say in private to Ruth and to his father.

'It's no secret that Dad and I didn't always seen eye to eye,' he told them, 'but to me he was always my Dad, even then.

Harry knew that, Graham had said as much when they'd been in Canada, but it took a lot more courage to say it in front of a group of people and Harry reached for the support of Ruth's hand.

'We've moved on, time does that to you, and I'm pleased to be able to say that I've never seen him looking happier and it's Ruth that I need to thank for that.'

He took a breath, looking towards Lucy.

'From the bottom of my heart and on behalf of everyone around this table, I wish both you all the happiness in the world, and not forgetting that little monkey,' he added to a grinning Thomas.

Nobody expected Harry to respond, instead they raised their glasses.

* * *

Party Time:-

'Time we were on our way Ruth,' Harry called up the stairs, having had a few hours to themselves after the others had departed, with a shout of don't be late from Catherine.

Having parked in their usual spot in what was now an orderly line of cars, they headed the short distance in the direction of what could only be described as the sound of people enjoying themselves. Tariq was on point duty as for the second time in the space of as many hours, applause and whistles rang out.

'I'm fine Harry stop worrying,' Ruth told him as she followed him down the steps. She'd managed to get Catherine to tell her what to expect when they first arrived.

Completely bowled over, by what was obviously more than a simple party, they were handed a drink and told to enjoy themselves, as they tried to spot Alice and Thomas.

'I'm just a sleeping partner this evening,' a passing Malcolm told them, pointing to Tariq who was adjusting the volume on the sound system, with Thomas as his assistant, jiggling about to something that they didn't recognise, but was none the less musical. 'Ground rules,' Malcolm went on to explain, 'the music has to be _bearable.'_

As the sun began to set and with a countdown from ten to one, the bonfire had been lit. It was the moment for the children to sing. What they'd chosen was a complete secret, not only from Harry and Ruth but from their parents as well.

'Once we knew that we'd be singing outside we had a vote and we'll be singing a different song,' Meg told her audience, who were sitting on the various chairs and rugs that had been provide. 'Oh and by the way, this song won hands down and we've changed the words in places, the children hope you'll like it.'

'Now don't forget that we've changed _on_ to _our_ , and to shout it,' she told the sea of small and excited faces, none more so than Thomas and Alice who were understandably in the front row. 'After three,' she whispered. It was Island Of Dreams.

I wandered the streets and the gay crowded places

Trying to forget you but somehow it seems

My thoughts ever stray to our last sweet embraces

Over the sea on _our_ island of dreams

...

High in the sky is the bird on the wing

Please carry me with you

Far far away, from the mad rushing crowd

Please carry me with you.

...

Again I would wander where memories enfold me

Here on _our_ beautiful island of dreams

...

Far far away, on _our_ island of dreams.

rang out clear and true, it's meaning clear.

It wasn't a night for speeches and Harry didn't intend making one, but no one could have doubted how much he and Ruth appreciated the children's efforts.

'It looks as though I'm out of a job,' Ruth told Meg, when she thanked her for all her efforts, only to be told that she was exhausted and she had no idea how Ruth managed to organise the Christmas concert. Neither did Ruth at that precise moment.

As the food and drink continued to be passed around, Catherine tipped Tariq the wink and then walked over to stand behind her father and Ruth and leaning over his shoulder, told him they were on. They'd known it was going to happen it was the custom these days at weddings and despite the fact that Ruth was nervous, Harry was right, it was getting dark and today of all days, she so want to dance with him.

It felt surreal to be walking across the sand and holding Harry's hand in front of a lot of people. But it didn't feel as imposing as it had on a dance floor, she was coping.

Romantic, of course he was, thought Catherine and Lucy who had been watching their every move. With the tenderness that he'd always had, but until Ruth had come into his life he'd kept guarded, Harry leant forward and said something to Ruth, before he gathered her towards him. It was slow, it was gentle and to anyone who was watching, it was a clear message as to how much he loved and cherished this woman that he'd just married.

Under a sky that was teeming with a million stars and in front of the people who had taken them to their hearts, Malcolm pressed play. To the strains of Beth Neilson Chapman's pure voice singing 'All I Have', Harry danced with his wife for the first time and Lucy passed Catherine a tissue.

You can say you love me

And I'll believe that's true

Trusting you is easy

Cause I believe in you

...

There is nothing I would miss

As long as we're in love like this

...

All I have is all I need

And it all comes down to you and me

How far away this world becomes

In the harbour of each other's arms

...

I feel like I've known you forever and ever

Baby, that's how close we are

Right here with you is where my life has come together

And where love has filled my heart

...

You know I'd go anywhere

As long as I have you to care

...

All I have is all I need

And it all comes down to you and me

How far away this world becomes

In the harbour of each other's arms

* * *

'Promise me that the music will never stop Harry,' came from deep within his shoulder, where Ruth's now sleepy head was buried.

'I promise,'

'How do you know?'

'Man of many talents, you know me Ruth,'

'I'm sorry, but I really need to move Harry,'

'Why, I'm so comfy?'

'I can't feel my legs.'

'They're fine believe you me, now go to sleep.'

They'd said their goodbyes to the stragglers and had been home for a couple of hours, all but a few minutes of which had been in spent in bed. Emotionally and physically tired after such a long day, Harry had made good his promise to _have and to hold_ , as had Ruth. There was always the following morning to look forward to.


	30. Chapter 30

**The Children's Holiday**

Everywhere that he'd contacted had been booked when just as Ruth stumbled back into the kitchen, a camping holiday with a difference where they had vacancies jumped off the page. Hill View Farm on Skye was a family run business which offered an educational but fun experience for young children. In the two and a half acre field there would be a maximum of three other families, ensuring them space and privacy and a babysitter/childminder was available should they want one.

'Just book it Harry,' she said to his 'this sounds too good to be true, what do you think?'

She'd left to the sound of expletives that were worthy of the old Harry and could imagine the ums and ahs that had continued when she'd been missing. After what felt like days rather than a couple of hours of gardening, she was desperately in need of a sit down and a cup of tea.

He hit 'book now.'

 **One week later.**

'Man of many talents, what did I tell you Ruth,' said the now much happier Harry that she knew and loved, his arms outstretched in triumph, as the tent that in the short term was doubling as their honeymoon hotel erected itself as if by magic and the children opened mouthed looked on. 'The tent pegs are probably at the bottom,' he added, encouraging his new assistant Thomas to dig deeper into the sack, until he resurfaced equally triumphant with a new pack.

'Please let me help,' Thomas had pleaded, when they'd read the brochure and realised that erecting their own tent was part of the educational experience.

Ruth was more than happy with this arrangement, assuming that it would involve a lot of sweat, tears and bad language, but seemingly not. As Thomas handed Harry the pegs and the mallet, the customary stones that were invariably where you wanted to hammer in a peg were conspicuous by their absence, and resulted in another full blown smile.

'What's next?' he asked her, as though he erected a tent like this every day of the week, which of course he didn't. Times had moved on and long gone were the god forsaken tents that he'd slept in during his time in the army.

'This is your bedroom,' came next and brought lots of giggling from the children, and what Harry suspected would be early mornings for himself and Ruth, despite the fact that they were separated by what the brochure describe as a large storeroom.

'When can we go and see the pigs?' Alice asked Harry, who'd now turned his hand to constructing their very comfortable looking beds, and Ruth who had finally found the stove and was putting the kettle on.

The pigs in question were of the bovine variety, not the boys in blue that frequented the streets of the big cities where criminals roamed, and certainly not on Skye. Harry had no idea why that particular thought had come into his head, but it had.

'Soon sweetheart after we've sorted ourselves out, here have a sandwich,' from Ruth, and Alice temporarily pacified.

It was the first week in August, the school had broken up for the summer, the sun was shining brightly and with the prospect of spending time with the children where nobody knew them, they were both inwardly confessing that they were starting to enjoy themselves.

'I'm still hungry,' said Alice, bringing Ruth back to reality and Harry and Thomas into action, as they sorted out the table and chairs before they sat down to enjoy lunch.

* * *

Another advantage of staying on a farm that prided itself on being self–sufficient and with a shop that sold everything, was that shopping in the day to day sense of 'You did remember to buy the toilet rolls didn't you,' followed by 'I thought you said that you'd get them,' would be non-existent. Harry still detested shopping and along with the fact that there was a pub that was within walking distance where children were welcome if you had a meal, was a real bonus.

This evening though, once they'd taken the children to see the various livestock they intended cooking al fresco, which involved another look at the brochure under the heading 'camp kitchen'.

'Welcome, I'm Sally,' said a cheerful voice, as they rounded the corner in the direction of what were obviously the hen houses, where a noticeboard told you, that if you arrived between nine and nine thirty in the morning you could feed the hens and help collect the eggs. To Alice who had lived most of her four years in a city and had never seen a hen up close and personal, it was as though they'd given her all her Christmas presents at once.

'You can come closer, here come and see what I'm doing,' Sally encouraged Alice, who was holding tight to Ruth's hand as Thomas who was ever hopeful of seeing a bear, went with Harry in search of something larger.

Having lived his entire seven years on Lewis and apart from their trip to Canada when he considered himself to have been _much_ younger, he'd never had a holiday and certainly not one like this. They'd been on what to a seven year old was a huge boat, he'd helped put up the tent and make their beds and tonight he was going to help his dad cook their dinner.

'We're booked in for egg collection a nine,' said Ruth's voice, interrupting the father and son conversation about which of the six donkeys that they were looking at was called Ryan, before reminding Harry that if they wanted to eat tonight, then they needed to investigate the shop.

* * *

'Harry,' he said, shaking the farmer's wife's hand as she arrived from where she'd been stacking the shelves, 'and this is my wife Ruth and our son Thomas and our granddaughter Alice,' was the first time that he'd introduced Ruth as his wife and was as far as he got before words stalled on his tongue.

'The children have been so excited about this holiday, you've got a lovely spot here,' Ruth helped him out, as Harry turned tail in search of a trolley.

'We've lived here all our lives, my husband was born on the farm,' sounded very familiar, as Lucy mark two then went on to tell them to make themselves at home while they were there and if there was anything that they needed, then they only had to ask.

'Do you have sausages?' asked Thomas.

They did, but no mention was made of their origin and that until quite recently they'd been enjoying the same summer sunshine as their visitors.

'Strangely enough I've never been asked that question,' Lucy responded to Ruth's raised eyebrows, as Harry took the children outside to load the car while she hung back to pay.

* * *

As day one came to an end, the question of bedtime reared its head and in the case of the children a much needed shower.

'Where are they?' was the children's next question, as Ruth gathered their towels and wash togs together.

The concept of walking across a field for a shower with a towel over your shoulder wouldn't have been alien to seasoned campers and certainly not to Harry or Ruth, but the children's reaction was priceless.

'No it wasn't a hot tub it was called a shower block,' brought more questions. This particular shower block came with all mod cons and was one of the first things that Harry had checked before he'd booked. Cold showers he'd had aplenty, but this certainly live up to his expectations in that it was spotlessly clean, was heated and there was plenty of steaming hot water.

'That's a silly name,' came with more giggles, as Harry told Thomas to stand still on the duck board, while he bent down to retrieve the soap that had predictably slid in slow motion into the adjacent cubicle where Ruth was showering Alice.

The real upside of all this activity was that the children were worn out, so as soon as they tucked them up in bed they fell asleep. They'd survived their first day which had been a long one, given that they'd left home at 8am.

'Happy?' was a ridiculous question, but Harry asked her anyway.

The sun had started to set and with it had come the same feeling of contentment that they shared at home, each and every evening. But here, sitting in the middle of a field under a star filled sky it felt different and strangely romantic, knowing that without saying anything that the person that you were sitting with felt exactly the same.

'I love you too,' Ruth told him breaking the silence. She'd seen it in his eyes.

'In that case I fancy an early night,' came with no argument, as they finished the bottle of wine and headed for bed.

Harry was as usual was keeping his promise, and the music that he'd told her would never stop played on as he kissed her goodnight.

 **Christmas**

Life for both of them had changed immeasurably over the past couple of years, but more so for Harry. What had once been Ruth's domain was now theirs, and as they approached another Christmas together he belonged and he knew it.

'I don't suppose you've seen Michael? ' Rose asked him as he popped out from behind some scenery that he and some of the other dads were erecting. Not surprisingly he'd been recruited into the small band of helpers who were currently getting the church ready for the Christmas Concert and the hall for the Christmas Party.

He hadn't, well not since about nine o'clock which seemed a long time ago and he was starting to feel hungry. Ruth's insistence that they ate regularly had paid off and it was time for his elevenses.

Rose could read Harry like a book, well almost as well as Ruth. In fact she was the founder member of the, _we think Harry's lovely_ fan club.

'Pop over to the school, it's break time and if you're lucky, Ruth might just have saved you a biscuit,' was said with genuine fondness.

The preparations for the concert were at the final stage and as he walked into the school room the sound of children singing was electrifying. Thomas spotted him and grinned, but Ruth had her back to him. He rarely saw her at work other than when he was persuaded to _give a hand,_ which usually meant that Ron who still popped in from time to time fancied a chat.

The energy and encouragement that she'd poured into drawing the best out of the children had paid off, but it still astounded him how well they'd responded. They were practicing Silent Night and she was literally drawing the emotion from them. It had captivated him that first Christmas and it still did.

'Well done,' she told them, although in Harry's opinion it went way beyond well done.

* * *

'Absolutely not,' had been Michael's response to Harry suggesting that as Graham and his family were also coming to the service that they should sit further back. 'Don't be ridiculous,' he'd told him, 'Ruth's the organiser Harry, you'll sit at the front with Rose and me.'

If he'd struggled to get through the evening the first time, then he knew that this time it was going to be ten times more difficult. Ruth was his wife now, the other half of him, and Thomas's adoption had been finalised, he was their son.

Just as she had done two years ago, Ruth walked down the aisle with the narrator. This year it was Robert. Turning towards the other children she smiled, the signal for them to start walking towards her.

It was the third time that he'd watched the performance and he knew the format by heart. He also knew how much effort Ruth had put into it and how important it was to her that the evening went well. Every nerve that he knew was coursing through her he could feel, excruciatingly beautiful as well as difficult. She was standing almost within touching distance, her eyes sparkling in the candlelight and her body framed by the Christmas tree that he'd help decorate. He was truly struggling.

'It'll be fine Harry,' he heard Lucy whisper, her hand searching his in reassurance, as Ruth caught his eye and held his gaze and Thomas, this year dressed as a shepherd, walked with Liam beside him towards Bethlehem.

Never a believer, there was something about being in this tiny church that on nights such as this, knocked on the door of his innermost consciousness and made him wonder. It was a spine tingling and very special moment.

* * *

Christmas Day wasn't quite as they'd planned it to be, although they weren't to worry Catherine had told them when she'd rung to say that she was going to her mothers and that she was no longer with Callum. Unlike the others he'd gone back to five, apparently unable to cope without the buzz.

'I'm absolutely fine Dad, stop fussing I'll see you at Easter,' she'd told them, before wishing them all a Happy Christmas'

It certainly made for a better atmosphere and a more relaxed Graham, who had joined in the _let's have a silly day,_ that when he'd been a child his father had always instigated at Christmas. The new much larger house had really come into its own and it didn't matter that the floor was covered with presents and wrapping paper and the children were pretty much allowed to get away with anything.

Ruth generally watched on, loving this other Harry, who just for one day seemed to abandon all the rules and play the fool. It was at moments like this that just for a second, she wondered what their long gone colleagues would have thought if they could have seen him playing hide and seek and pretending to be a bear. Alice squealing with delight at being found and Thomas playing along, she would never ever take it for granted she told herself, this precious new life that they'd made for themselves.

'My turn, my turn,' came from Thomas who was somewhere upstairs, as she joined Lucy who was taking a breather in the kitchen with Whisky who was doing a very good impression of a dog with paws over his ears.

'Harry used to be so contained, married life really suits him,' said Lucy unexpectedly, as the man in question who had gone out to fetch another basket of logs to bank up the fire, appeared at the kitchen window with a big grin on his face.

Contained wasn't a word that Ruth would have used to describe the former Harry, who with a few words could quell the most confident of people, but she knew what Lucy meant. Just how much Graham had told Lucy about their former life she wasn't sure, so she opted for another explanation.

'Harry loves his children, all of them, he always has,' she told her as Lucy nodded. 'They just fell into the hole between two warring parents, they were never the reason just the victims,' left the door open for whatever Lucy was really trying to say, which didn't take long.

'Graham was very bitter when I first met him until he met my nightmare parents. It was then that he realised that what Catherine had been trying to drum into him for ages, might actually be true. Her ringing when Harry was hurt and pleading with him to come to London was the impetuous that he needed and I just want you to know how grateful I am, because without it we wouldn't have moved here and make me feel part of a real family.'

'Boo,' said Alice, who had crept in unnoticed in search of Thomas, who was clearly still upstairs.

* * *

'Where does he get his energy from, I'm shattered?' Lucy asked Ruth, when three hours later Harry was upstairs reading the children a bedtime story before they went to sleep. She and Lucy had washed up the dishes and tidied up the chaos in the sitting room, before slumping onto the sofa beside Graham who was already asleep in Harry's large chair.

Making up for lost time thought Ruth, but Lucy was right Harry rarely got tired any more. Not strictly true in this case, when an hour later she went upstairs to find him, and he was curled up next to Thomas fast asleep.

 ** **The Honeymoon****

Six years ago when they'd been babysitting some high ranking politician whose name he could no longer remember, he'd been passing Ruth's door on his way to bed and had overheard a chance remark that she'd made to Jo.

He'd loved her even then otherwise why would he have remembered, but whether he was doing the right thing in considering London as the location for their honeymoon he wasn't sure, until he'd spoken to Catherine.

'When have you two ever had a chance to enjoy London together Dad and do _normal_ things, Ruth will love it and so will you,' she'd told him, his mind going into overdrive imaging them watching a concert at the Royal Festival Hall or walking beside the Thames her arm linked through his.

It had been two days after their wedding before Catherine had flown home and she and Ruth had gone for a walk.

'That's fine sir, one double room for three nights, we look forward to seeing you,' had been the chirpy receptionists response to Harry's call, suggesting that as they were bound to get busy at that time of year, that he might be wise book now.

'We'll take it,' and it was done. Well apart from him booking their flights and talking to Rose to reaffirm that she was still happy for Thomas to stay at the vicarage for a few nights, and at this stage keep it from Ruth.

Now with only a week to go, he needed to tell Graham and Lucy before the suggestion of _why don't you come to us for New Year_ became a problem, and decide which if any was the best way to tell Ruth. The chances were that even with the flight that they were booked on she might not guess where they were staying, six years was a long time even with Ruth's amazing memory.

* * *

Far from being daunted by the thought of going back to London, Ruth was equally pleased. The years when they been constrained by their work and their ridiculous hesitancy had prevented them doing so many of the things that she'd really wanted to.

His only concession to the past was that he'd been in touch with his favourite taxi driver who had been waiting to meet them at Heathrow and was _at your disposal Arry._ Ruth didn't doubt it. She knew London as well as Harry did, but not by the routes that taxi drivers took, so it wasn't until the very last minute that she realised where they were staying. How on earth he knew about this hotel she had no idea or if he didn't, then the coincidence was amazing.

It had been years since she'd been there. It was to a wedding reception of one of her friends from Cambridge, who in those days Ruth thought had more money than sense. Now though, standing by their window on the third floor overlooking the Thames from the South Bank and close to the Shard with a stunning view of the London skyline and the majestic buildings that were so familiar, she felt differently. Whatever else Harry had up his sleeve she wanted him to keep there, whatever he had planned would be perfect, she knew that now.

As his strong arms enveloped her, she closed her eyes and leant back into him, perfectly content. This was a just a fantasy; home was where Thomas was and where they belonged, but just for a few days she was determined to enjoy it.

'What's it to be then?' he asked after they'd unpacked and had a couple of hours free before dinner.

'Take me to bed Harry,' was what he wanted her to say, she could see it on his face but that could come later, so they settled for a walk.

'Walking in the streets,' he said predictably, as they headed away from the hotel, with her hand now tightly held by his.

It might have been the last week in December with the chill from the river permeating the air, but Ruth had never felt warmer. People passed them in both directions, ordinary people they would have once called them, but now just people like them.

They found a small bar that served coffee and that's where they gravitated. A drink with their dinner could wait and they wanted to ring Thomas.

'We're having fish fingers and chips,' followed, 'yes I am,' to Ruth's question that 'she hoped he was behaving and was he enjoying himself?' as Harry waited patiently for the phone to be handed over.

No they weren't having fish and chips, although Mummy might have fish because it was her favourite, were amongst the questions that Harry had to answer before asking to speak to Rose.

'He's absolutely fine and yes we still plan to take the children to the New Year's Eve bonfire and fireworks display tomorrow and you're not to worry,' the ever dependable Rose told him.

* * *

In the eight years that they'd known each other, you could count on one hand the number of times that they'd eaten in a restaurant. This one surpassed all of them, but despite its opulence Ruth still felt comfortable. How could she not when Harry was being so attentive. He'd pretty much thought of everything or at least he hoped he had and had pre booked a table by the window. The plush carpet cut out all sound of chairs being moved in or out or passing diners and the layout of the tables offered sufficient room for privacy.

They'd ordered their meal and the waiter had poured their first glass of wine. 'To us,' Harry toasted, raising his glass as the world around them disappeared beyond their bubble. He'd developed the habit of turning Ruth's wedding ring in circles on her finger and he was doing it now, as though he still couldn't quite believe that they'd made it.

'Tell me how you knew about this hotel?' Ruth asked him, stilling his hand, only to be staggered that he'd remembered after all this time.

'I only remember the good things now,' he told her, 'the rest is history, but I want to tell you this here and now and hope that even on bad days you will never forget.'

'What bad days?' She was worried.

'Well not bad days in the really bad day sense, just when I'm grumpy because the internet's gone down or England's lost a Test Match or my knee's giving me jip.'

'Oh those bad days,' a relieved Ruth said, smiling at his earnest face, 'what mustn't I never forget?'

'That I love you Ruth with all my heart and I always will, more than I'll ever adequately be able to express.'

'That's good,' as Ruth's response, wouldn't have been adequate to anyone other than them, but its meaning was as clear as it was full of memories.

The waiter had hung back. He was used to watching their guests and had learnt not to interrupt at inappropriate moments. Now though the conversation had stopped and both parties were smiling. It was time to deliver their first course.

* * *

The following few days flew by. They spent a lot of time in bed, had a wonderful evening at The Festival Hall, walked what felt like the length and breath of the Thames and sought out what would always be _their bench_ in St James's Park. Most importantly though, they laughed rather than cried about the stupidity on both their parts to have reached this moment.

There had been many times over the years when one or other of them had manufactured the situation to enable them to see the New Year in together. The balcony at Thames House, that was undoubtable _theirs_ and where only those with a death wish or who wanted to be posted to far flung climes dared tread, was within touching distance. But if what Ruth suspected was their final goodbye to London and the first step into a future that they had both for so long dreamed of, then what better place do it than amongst _real_ people by the London Eye.

The countdown in all the major countries went worldwide on TV these days. Sydney, then London and finally New York were the so called competitors as to the best fireworks, if what you read in the newspapers was to be believed. Did it really matter Ruth thought, no it didn't. Most people lived where we are born and this was why Harry had spent a lifetime trying to protect London.

Tomorrow they would fly home to their tiny island and to Thomas who was their future. But for this one precious moment as Big Ben struck midnight and Harry kissed her, the world belonged to them.


End file.
